WHAT TIME CANNOT ERASE
by Sadie Sil - English stories
Summary: When Legolas was a small child, Celebrian and her children used to visit him every spring. A deep and valuable bond of friendship was established between him and the twins. This friendship, however, could not withstand unexpected events. Many years later an opportunity for reconciliation appeared. Characters: Legolas, The Twins, Thranduil, Glorfindel, Elrond, Arwen, Celebrian.
1. REMEMBER MY NAME AND MY AFFECTION

**WHAT TIME CANNOT ERASE**

_Our friends interpret the world and ourselves to us, if we take them tenderly and truly._

**Amos Bronson Alcott**

* * *

**Author**: Sadie Sil

**Betas**: Calathiel (first chapters) and Puxinette (revision and other chapters)

**Genre**: Angst/Adventure

**Rating**: T

**Timeline**: Chapter I – around the year 2200 – In The Watchful Peace Period - a relatively peaceful 4-century period during the Third Age, from T.A. 2063 until Sauron's return to Dol Guldur in 2460.- ; the other chapters – in the year 2934, of the Third Age

**Disclaimer**: I didn't create any of these wonderful characters. I've just borrowed them from the Professor, devoting them all my love. Now I feel they are also a little bit mine, but I am sure the good Professor won't mind sharing them with me.

**Summary**: When Legolas was a small child, Celebrian and her children used to visit him every spring. A deep and valuable bond of friendship was established between him and the twins. This friendship, however, could not withstand unexpected events. Many years later an opportunity for reconciliation appeared.

**Vocabulary**:

_Ion_ – son

_Ionath_ – children - sons

_Ield_ - daughter

_Ada_ – dad (familiar/informal)

_Adar_ – father (formal)

_Nana_ – mom (familiar/informal)

_Naneth_ – mother (formal)

_penig _– little one

_nîn _– my

_El_ - nick name used on some occasions to call Elladan or Elrohir or both of them together.

Author's note: I borrowed Thranduil's wife's name _Elvéwen_ from the stories of an excellent author called Cassia. I'd like to thank her for allowing me to use it.

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_**CHAPTER I – REMEMBER MY FACE AND MY AFFECTION**_

* * *

_You and I will meet again, _

_When we're least expecting it, _

_One day in some far off place, _

_I will recognize your face, _

_I won't say goodbye my friend, _

_For you and I will meet again._

Tom Petty

* * *

He flew down the stairs at a great speed, sliding barefoot on the tiles when he reached the lower floor, and then continued his journey to the entrance hall. However, when he made the next turn that would allow him to reach the main door, he caught sight of two beautiful slender figures approaching slowly. He stepped back, taken by the instinct to hide. He knew he would be reprimanded again for running through the halls. But there was no time. They had already seen him.

"_Penig?"_ His mother's voice sounded like music to his ears. It was a strong and lilting melody that he would never cease to follow, wherever he was. Legolas immediately turned and smiled when he saw the elf queen approaching, accompanied by her lovely visitor. Actually he was silently thankful that she apparently hadn't seen the speed with which he had come down the stairs.

"_Nana_. Lady Celebrian," the elfling said as he bowed gracefully, and Elrond's wife sighed, pressing a hand to her breast.

"Hello, _Little Squirrel_," Celebrian said as she smiled at Legolas.

He returned her smile, delighted with the affectionate way he was treated by the Lady of Imladris.

"Where is my Star?" she asked him.

"Arwen is upstairs," he quickly answered, lifting his finger to indicate the direction of the place he was speaking of. "We were sketching; she taught me to draw a sunset."

The curly-haired lady elf smiled, exchanging an affectionate glance with the friend by her side. Elvéwen nodded her head slightly. This actually seemed to confirm something they had been chatting about. It was deeply satisfying to see how easily Legolas, Arwen and the twins had tightened the ties of their friendship over the years that Celebrian had been visiting the Forest Kingdom.

"And have you learned her lesson well, _pen-neth_?" Elvéwen asked the elfling, noticing that he was glancing around restlessly and moving from one foot to another as he always did when he was in a hurry and had been stopped.

"Yes, _nana_," Legolas replied promptly, now clasping his hands behind his back as a good prince should behave in front of visitors. In fact, he had realized that his mother had noticed his impatience and had given him a warning glance.

"Is that true, little one?" she asked in a cheerful tone, crossing her arms in front of her body.

"Yes," Legolas said, nodding his head firmly. "Arwen said I paint blurs that resemble the rising sun—somewhat."

The two ladies could not help laughing, and Legolas was pleased by that sound. He loved to see his mother laughing, and when she was accompanied by Lady Celebrian, the world seemed just perfect.

"Poor little one." Elrond's wife approached, placing a hand on the prince's shoulder. "I'm sure she did not intend to offend you, _Squirrel_. I bet that the landscapes you have created are very beautiful."

Legolas shook his head.

"No, indeed, my lady," he replied with sincerity. "Elrohir has made terrible comments about the pictures I paint."

Celebrian raised both eyebrows, turning her embarrassed eyes away from the prince. She didn't dare to ask him what the views of her middle child had been.

"I do not care," Legolas quickly said, noting the discomfort he had created. "I do not like to draw landscapes. I cannot even see sights here that are worth being drawn, my lady."

"Legolas!" Elvéwen said, unable to contain her dissatisfaction with her son's words.

Legolas blushed slightly.

"Forgive me, _nana_," he said, immediately trying to redeem himself. "I did not mean that there is not beauty here. I just... I cannot see the sunrise or the sunset and... Everything is always so dark and closed... My friends Thavanian and Alagos have told me that the sun's path is different here in our woods. Is that true, _nana_?"

Elvéwen looked down briefly, thinking that actually Arwen's drawings would not really make sense for an elfling such as Legolas, who had lived his entire life within the confines of this cave, with strict permission to go only as far as the garden. He barely knew the blue sky and brilliant stars, enjoying a few of the sun's rays that streamed in through small cracks in the roof of the cave; the same sun that favored the growth of a few different trees and flowers that thrived in the subterranean garden.

"Children play with the truth, Las," Elvéwen clarified after a sigh. She needed to talk to Thavanian and Alagos again. Would those elflings never give up playing such jokes on Legolas? "Creating truths to suit oneself does not make them real. I've already told you so."

Legolas bit the corner of his lip, trying to catch whether that was a reply to his question or a reprimand. It was never very clear.

"The forest is a bit closed," Celebrian added fondly. "You can hide what exists here and there, but things cannot be prevented from existing. Do you understand elfling?"

Legolas' brow furrowed slightly, and the ladies looked at each other and sighed at the same time. He was a growing boy. He was already reading difficult poems and dragons' stories. He was even learning to handle the bow and arrow, but he still had an innocence that prevented him from understanding the world around him.

"If we could at least go a little beyond the gardens? If we could leave the cave..." Legolas said, staring at the door. "Thavanian and Alagos say there is still much beauty there... During the last moon, Lord Erebian took them camping and..."

"You know what the king thinks about that, do you not, Squirrel?" Elvéwen answered patiently, stroking her son's hair. "Please, dear one. Listen to your _naneth's_ advice and do not bother him with those thoughts again. You know he gets angry with you when you come with these stories, _penig_."

Legolas lowered his eyes and dropped his shoulders in a sigh.

"Yes, _nana,_" he said, lifting them up again sadly. "Can I go now?"

Elvéwen pursed her lips in frustration. Why did she always have to be responsible for making her son understand his father's opinions, even when she herself didn't understand her husband?

"Where are you going?"

"To look for the twins. Arwen asked me to call them. Have you seen them?"

"Yes," Celebrian responded promptly, as if waking from thoughts of the sad mother and child exchange she'd just witnessed. "They are talking in the garden."

Legolas raised both eyebrows, pleased with the discovery and seemingly already forgetting his mother's sad words. Then he looked at Elvéwen, waiting politely for permission to move away. The beautiful lady-elf smiled, leaning over and kissing her son's forehead lovingly. The elfling then ran for the exit of the great hall, passing the two keepers who were standing there and running over the narrow bridge that led to the clearing where the Queen's hidden garden was built.

* * *

After crossing the bridge, however, Legolas stopped for a second outside the beautiful place his mother had created. The garden was part of the cave, but a large crack in the ceiling allowed light to come in and give energy to the life which grew inside. It was his mother's refuge. A Silvan elf who, like him, had been forced to live most of her days inside a cave, protected but isolated from the world and the forest she loved. His mother told him that his father did it because he loved them, but Legolas found it very difficult to understand a love like that.

Some sounds coming from inside the garden distracted his thoughts then, and he instinctively hid himself in a small corner behind the gate, keeping it closed. He kept quiet for a moment just to try to make sure who was there. It didn't take long for him to recognize the twins' voices, which sounded as music from the trees. They were his heroes, the brave warriors who were in all of his dreams. He loved imagining them as the main characters of the books he read; he could see them climbing tall trees, pioneering unknown lands, facing dragons and other monsters, saving people. All he wanted was to grow up to be a warrior like them.

Legolas waited a little longer, not resisting the temptation of listening to them without them knowing he was there. He wanted to know what brave warriors usually talked about.

They were sitting on one of the old stumps, which had been skillfully carved into the shape of a large bench. One of them looked at the yellow Ipe tree, which at this time of year, usually flourished nicely, even in a dark cave. The other brother had a stick in his hands and scribbled something on the dry earthen floor. Legolas could not see any difference between them, however hard he tried. The elfling frowned and then concentrated his attention on what he could hear.

"When we return to Imladris I want to take a different route," said the twin who was holding the stick. "The one we usually take is too risky."

The other one nodded without answering, still contemplating the lovely tree. A yellow petal from one of its flowers broke off and landed gently on his shoulder, making him smile.

"I was thinking," continued the first one. "It will take an extra day of travel, but I think it is wise."

"Uh-huh..." said the other one, absently.

"Before that we can have a good dive into the Enchanted River. I really need to sleep a few days. What do you think?"

"Uh-huh..." The reply came in an even lower whisper, but then the elf in front of the tree moved his head slightly, as if he were mentally repeating his brother's sentence to himself, and then he gave him a puzzled look. "What did you say, Elrohir? Do you want to have a bath in the Enchanted River, the dark river that rises in the mountains of the forest? Do you remember that people say that its waters carry a curse that gives the river its name—any person coming into contact with its enchanted water immediately falls into a long, deep sleep?"

"Uh-huh..." The twin replied, mimicking exactly the tone his brother had been using until then. "I want to do that after visiting the dungeons and maybe asking the king to sword train with me and..."

Elladan followed his brother's absurd speech for some time before realizing the real meaning of it all.

"Yes. All right," he said, raising both hands. "I surrender. I was distracted. Forgive me."

"I worry about us, taking the trail that we usually travel," Elrohir said, returning to the initial subject and his serious opinion about it. "This forest keeps its secrets hidden. Every year this place is more chilling."

"We are still in times of peace," Elladan reminded him, though on his face there was the same air of restlessness his twin was now exhibiting. It made them seem even more identical.

"Peace..." Elrohir snorted. "Why do I scarcely believe in that word?"

"Maybe it's because you enjoy conflict," Elladan answered, turning absently to look at the yellow flowers above. "I'll never be able to stop admiring a garden that grows in a place like this."

But Elrohir did not respond. And Elladan turned immediately to his brother, meeting a pair of darkened eyes he knew well. He promptly repeated to himself what he had said to finally realize that, indeed, although unintentional, there was a provocation in one of his last comments.

"Do not stare at me like that," Elladan said, defending himself. "You and I both know that the supposed peace of recent years bothers you."

"It's not the peaceful moments that concern me; it is what stays hidden, Dan."

"You have a suspicious nature, Ro. And I thought that this problem only affected the _Edain_ people. Maybe your _Adán_ blood is stronger than mine."

Elrohir rose, walking broodingly through the small garden and Elladan sighed, blaming himself again for always speaking his mind so openly.

"I am sorry, _toron_," he forced himself to say, while remaining in his place on the bench. "I understand your warrior instincts and know their value. I'm just trying to fool my heart for a few more years into believing we truly have peace... Would you allow me this pleasure?"

Elrohir remained silent, and then he sank onto the green grass and crossed his legs.

"Come on, Ro. Don't be cruel… talk to me."

"Why should I? You are not even listening to me. Why don't you continue admiring these yellow flowers that grow in this dark place?"

"And this fact does not impress you, _toron nîn_?" Elladan looked at him seriously now. "An army of soldiers who bravely fight against the evil touches your heart, but a wild tree that buries its roots under rock and can still give us such beautiful flowers in a place where there is almost no light does not even make you pause?"

Elrohir snorted in response.

"Do you admire only the heroic death, Ro? What about the life that resists? Life that overcomes the pitfalls, the impossibilities? Does it not fill you with wonder?"

Elrohir snorted again, moving uncomfortably. "I see it took you all day to make me feel bad, yet you seem to have accomplished it. You have been very competent in meeting your goals."

"If I have, I can only give thanks." Elladan wasn't affected by his twin's melodrama. "For it is a sign that you realize how radical you are sometimes."

"I am stupid, rude and heartless. I know. You do not need to remind me."

"Oh!" Elladan said, becoming frustrated then. "How many years will pass before you stop using these unfortunate adjectives you reserve for describing yourself?"

Elrohir snorted louder then. "You irritate me, Elladan. You annoy me more than anyone can. What a graceless ability you have!"

Silence overtook the older brother, who pressed his jaws together lightly. Elrohir looked at him no more, his bluster completely lost, mainly because he suddenly realized his brother was really angry, something that was very rare.

"I will not say anything else then," Elladan finally said, rising with a sigh of discomfort and stretching his body. He looked once more to the yellow tree and sighed, keeping his own opinions. "It was not my intention to irritate you, though you do that often enough to yourself."

"Where are you going?" Elrohir asked, watching his twin approach the garden gate.

"To my bedroom. I am tired."

"Of course! Why not?" The other twin grew angry again. "Enjoy the fact that here we each have a room so I will not annoy you for the rest of the day."

"You will join me soon, I'm well aware," Elladan said, a smile already lifting his lips. All nights were the same. He would barely lie down on his bed, and he would soon hear knocking on the bedroom door. Elrohir would slip into the room and under his brother's sheets, as an elfling who fears being alone in his own bed. Elladan could never understand that. The older twin was secretly grateful for his younger brother. Even after Elrohir had been consecrated one of Imladris' best warriors, earning his own patrol to captain, he still felt the need of his twin's presence, of exchanging the last words of the day with him, of wishing him goodnight.

"I will not," Elrohir vehemently denied.

"Then I will lock the door."

"Go ahead. Lock it."

Elladan pretended indifference, walking towards the gate and pulling the handle. Legolas shrunk back so as not to be seen.

"Dan," the elfling heard, as the twin still inside the garden called to his brother. Elladan was near Legolas now, but he hadn't seen him even when he turned to answer.

"What?"

"Do not lock the door," Elrohir said in a sad tone.

Elladan sighed, dropping his shoulders and smiling.

"Come here, _toron_." He gestured with his fingers, stretching out his hand. "It is getting dark; we must go into the palace before _nana_ comes looking for us."

Elrohir approached slowly and when he was close enough, Elladan circled his brother's shoulders with his right arm, and they left the garden in an embrace.

Legolas watched them. It would be too good to have a brother, he thought. Too bad that his father did not even like hearing about that idea. Moreover, his father seemed to have no time lately to listen to any of his ideas.

"Dan…"

Legolas realized that the twins were still talking, walking slowly back to the entrance of the great hall. He then hastened to accompany them by sneaking behind large rocks scattered here and there along the path.

"What?" Elladan said.

"Do you think Thranduil has any power?"

"Power? What do you mean?"

"You know. Power. Like our father has."

"What I know is that only three rings were forged. One is with our father, the other with our grandmother and the third is in _Mithrandir's_ wise hands. You know that also, don't you?"

"Yes, I know it. But the gates… Did you realize that they seem to open just by hearing the king's voice? I have asked people about that but nobody says a thing. It seems as a secret or something. However, I never see any elf push them open or any other kind of mechanism that could cause it to happen."

"It is a fact, Ro. I've noticed it, too. I think they do open by the will of the king. I have heard that the dwarves also have mastered a few powerful words for movement in the same manner. _Mithrandir_ once told me that the gates of Moria are secured this way."

"Argh," Elrohir said theatrically, feigning disgust. "Why lock them? Who would want to go into a place like that?"

Elladan laughed.

"Every kind of creature, as you know well, _toron nîn_. Who would not wonder about the treasure the little ones dig for in those mines?"

The other twin went quiet, and then shook his head. The joke didn't seem so funny anymore.

"That ambition has been the ruin of many," he said solemnly. That subject seemed to have aroused some not so good memories.

"Ambition is not always a wise motivator." Elladan patted his brother's shoulder, noticing his change of mood. Nobody knew Elrohir better than his twin.

"Definitely not," Elrohir said then, and his tone was of one who wants to see a subject closed.

At least that was Legolas' impression. He frowned, tilting his face to one side. He was still watching the brothers, who had stopped before the steps in front of the door that let into the great hall to continue their conversation. The movement within the cave had slowed with the closing of the day.

What would _ambition_ be, the elfling asked himself, remembering he had seen that word before in one of his readings, but could not recall the meaning of it. He edged upward a bit from the stone behind which he was hiding, trying to see why the twins were silent now. To his surprise, they were both standing directly in front of him. He hadn't even heard them approaching.

He looked at those two pairs of big gray eyes, while his face lost all color. He gulped, taking a step back, his eyes still fixed on the two brothers. Both were looking at him with seriousness, their smooth white faces with no expression, their gray eyes even brighter. The one on the right had both hands on his hips, and the one on the left had his arms crossed in front of his chest. They didn't seem very pleased.

"_Toron_," the twin who had his arms crossed said, lifting his chin. "I think we were being spied upon."

Legolas' eyes widened even more and he felt his vision darken from embarrassment and fear.

"You were... were talking," he mumbled, lowering his head shyly. "I... did not want to interrupt. _Nana_ says that it is impolite to interrupt adults when... when they are talking... about... important issues..." he tried to explain, even though he thought that was the most useless advice he had ever heard. After all, adults always seemed to be talking about important issues. It would be easier if his mother had just told him to never interrupt adult elves' conversations at all.

The other twin clicked his tongue, lowering his unreadable eyes to meet Legolas', which were very easily read.

"And what has your _nana_ said about listening to other people's conversations, little prince?" he teased, receiving a slight poke from his older brother.

Legolas bit his lower lip, and although it seemed impossible to be believed, he grew even paler. He seemed so terribly sorry that the younger twin began to regret the comment he had made.

"I... I had no... no intention..." the prince said, trying to apologize. "Dan... Ro... please... do... do not be angry... do not be angry with me... I am... sorry... I..."

Elladan was the first to feel uncomfortable with the small joke they were playing. He frowned upon hearing the child's anxious voice. What did Legolas fear so much? Was all his unease because he thought they might be angry? He crouched down at once and pulled the little elf closer, so that he could sit on one of his knees.

"It is all right, _pen-neth_," he said with a reassuring smile. "Who can be angry with an elfling like you, eh?" he asked then, gently shaking the prince and kissing his temple. "I only regret that you heard so bitter a conversation."

Legolas nodded in complete silence. He was happy that one of the twins (he thought it was Elladan, but he was never sure) was not angry with him. He looked at the other twin, who was still standing, still looking angry and still holding both hands on his hips.

Elrohir's lips tightened when he saw those bright blue eyes turn toward him, but he kept his mask firmly in place. He couldn't miss this opportunity to have some fun.

"Do not be angry..." the little prince repeated, and Elladan looked sternly at his brother, reading Elrohir's intention as he always did and sending him a clear message advising Elrohir not to play any cruel games with the frightened child.

"Elrohir is not angry," he said, still staring at his brother. "Are you, Ro?"

"Of course I am!" Elrohir answered, and the older twin felt like punching him right there in front of the small child.

Legolas shuddered and Elladan wrapped him in his arms and this time became angry indeed. There was something wrong with this situation, something only the heart of a healer seemed to be able to feel. He didn't know exactly what it was, but he wanted to end this situation immediately.

"Elrohir," he tried again, his tone even more severe. "Stop scaring the little one, or you and I will have a serious talk right here."

The twin provocatively stretched his neck, and Elladan took an incredulous breath. That was Elrohir; if you wanted him to stop something, the last thing you should do is tell him that. He was the most infuriating elf he had known and seemed to take a special pleasure in being exactly as he was. Would it really be necessary to teach his brother a good lesson, after all the years they had shared?

"We will have a talk then." Elrohir moved towards his brother, raising both fists. "This is how two warriors solve their problems. Come on, don't be a coward."

"What?" Elladan frowned. "Do you want me to fight with you?"

"Of course not!" Elrohir said, looking at Legolas. "My problem is with the warrior you are holding there. You can let him go now, Dan. Let him come here and we will have a talk."

It took Elladan a few moments to understand the folly his twin had converted into words.

"Elrohir, are you mad or..."

"Come on, Dan! Release him at once. Let me show this coward elfling some good manners."

Elladan frowned for a moment, recognizing a brightness that he knew very well in his brother's eyes. It was a delicious glow of pleasure that only the youngest of the twins seemed to possess. Yes, Elrohir was enjoying himself, and, despite Elladan's trepidation about the situation, he knew it was always worthwhile to go along with his twin when he had that look about him.

"Come here. Come," the dark haired elf repeated, staring at the shuddering elfling Elladan was holding. "Stop being a coward."

"Ro... No, please..." Legolas continued to plead, hiding his face in Elladan's chest. He seemed to be sure now of who was provoking him. Only Elrohir would do that. He was the most humorous of the twins, but also the most short-tempered. He raised his eyes a bit, undecided about which decision to make. When Elladan moved him away from his chest and looked into his eyes, he trembled again. "Dan... Explain to him that I did not mean it."

"I don't want any explanation," Elrohir said, not giving his brother the chance to say anything. "What kind of spineless prince are you, eh? You need to be taught a lesson. Come here!"

"I think you better go, Las," Elladan finally said. He was still unsure about what the consequences of what they were doing might be, especially after receiving an even more surprised look from the elfling, who panicked even more, but he decided to trust his brother's instincts. "Listen, _penig_, Elrohir is the captain. We must to do what he says."

"Dan... no... please..."

Elladan gave Legolas no chance to continue, he just stood up and walked away before his better judgment won out. He took a few steps back, discretely checking around them to make sure no one had noticed this _misunderstanding_.

Legolas found himself in front of the angry younger twin, who gestured impatiently for him to approach.

"Come on, elfling. Let me show you what I do with people like you. Let me show you how it is to be under my command."

The poor prince bit his lower lip hard, apprehensive, not knowing how to escape from the terrifying situation. He then closed his eyes and hugged his body.

"You will not cry will you?" the dark haired elf asked disdainfully, approaching Legolas now. The little elf drew back a little until he was suddenly grabbed by Elrohir and tickled without mercy.

Legolas first panicked, then started laughing, too, but in between gasps he implored the twin to free him.

"Give up, elfling. I have told you. I'm a cruel warrior."

"Ro... please..." he begged among bouts of laughter, almost breathless.

Elladan then crossed his arms and shook his head, watching the scene and thinking of the things he had said to his twin back in the garden. Accusing Elrohir of insensitivity, saying he had no eyes for life, was really a great injustice.

"Let him go now, _toron nîn_," he said, seeing the elfling's much reddened face. "Have mercy."

"That's what I want to hear!" Elrohir said, suddenly stopping his attack on the small prince, and Legolas opened his eyes, still being held tightly by the older elf. "Ask for mercy, elfling!" he commanded, restarting his cruel torture.

Legolas began to laugh again, and he would have asked for mercy several times if he had been able to say anything.

"Ro ... ple... a… se .."

"Ask for mercy, elfling..."

"Mer... cy..."

"AH!" Elrohir stopped again, but did not release his victim. "Now say that I am the greatest warrior; the best you know, or I will continue torturing you."

The elfling smiled then, wiping the tears from his reddened face.

"You do not need to make me do that," he assured him, resting his head on the twin's chest. "Because you are among the three best fighters of _Arda_ to me."

Elrohir frowned, but his heart missed a beat with the little child's declaration.

"I do not know…" he tried to compose himself. "With whom do I share this title?"

"With my _ada_ and Elladan," Legolas replied with sincerity. "You are indeed the best and most feared warriors of all of _Arda_."

Elrohir pressed his lips together, and then he turned his eyes to his brother, who smiled at him, standing just a step away. He looked at the prince, who frowned at the expression in the twin's eyes.

"Are you angry again, Ro?"

"Me?"

"Yes."

"Why would I be?"

"Because I have compared you to other warriors?"

A smile escaped the younger twin's lips and Elrohir rose, taking Legolas in his arms. The prince laid his head on the dark haired elf's shoulder for a moment and sighed.

"Are you really not angry?"

"I am not," the twin replied, stroking the child's back gently. He kissed his forehead then and put him on the ground. "I will be honest with you, Las. I do not know if I deserve to share a place with elves of such magnitude. Especially with someone as powerful as your _ada_."

Legolas grinned at the mention of his father's name. He was very excited to know that these elves, who were his heroes, shared his opinion of the king.

"My _ada_ has faced many battles," he said with excitement. "They say there is peace, but he always faces terrible monsters in the forest. He is very brave, is he not, Elrohir?"

The elf's brow furrowed. "Does your _ada_ tell you about the battles he faces in the Forest?" he asked, and the elfling paled again.

"No... Ro... He... He never tells me anything."

Elrohir could not believe those words. His warrior instincts suddenly shouted at him, as if he were in a full field of war. He looked up; searching for confirmation or clarification in his brother about what was bothering him. But Elladan was much more serious than was his usual manner. He did not even return Elrohir's glance; his attention was drawn by something behind his twin. Elrohir felt a strange chill run unpleasantly down his spine. He turned slowly to confirm what his instincts were screaming and to find out what had piqued his brother's interest.

"Elladan, Elrohir." Thranduil's voice sounded firm. "I advise you to come into the inner rooms now. Soon it will be dark, even inside the garden. I do not like the lamps to be lit in vain."

"Yes, your majesty," the twins replied in unison and Elrohir instinctively took Legolas' hand, noticing that the child seemed to have paled even more when he saw his father. He didn't know why but the Elven King wasn't pleased at all, and the reason didn't seem to be simply their presence in this place when it was getting dark. Could Thranduil have heard something that he would not approve of? "Come on, Las," proposed the young twin.

"The prince will come in a few minutes," Thranduil corrected, grasping his son's arm. Legolas trembled, but bowed his head at once.

Elrohir looked into the King's eyes, unconsciously holding Legolas' hand tighter as if not intending to release it, but Elladan gently pulled his brother's arm as he passed him.

"Come on, _toron_," he said, and smiled at Legolas, trying to assure his little friend that they would be around if he needed them. "Our mother must be waiting for us inside."

Elrohir hardened his body, as stubborn as he always was, but Elladan tightened his grip on his twin's arm, making clear that he was unwilling to discuss anything right now.

"Come on, Elrohir. Let's obey the King's orders."

Elrohir finally let the Prince's cold hand slip from his, although he was very unhappy at having to do it. He looked at the King once more, whose gaze did not falter from his for a moment.

"Your son is a very smart elfling, your majesty," he said.

"I know," Thranduil replied. "But he is not as smart as I need him to be."

Legolas lowered his face and Elladan tugged on Elrohir's arm again, asking for pardon from father and son, and nearly dragging his twin up the steps.

* * *

Now that he was alone with his father, Legolas felt that there was no way to avoid a conflict. He kept his head low and trembled when he felt the King squat before him while holding his arm a little tighter.

"Say it!" he commanded.

"Say... say... what, _a… ada_? "

"Tell me why I will punish you as soon as Lady Celebrian and her children are gone."

Punish. The small elf repeated that bitter word to himself as his eyes filled with tears.

"If you cry, the punishment will be doubled. I advise you, Legolas. Do not come to me with these childish tricks. You are already a grown elfling!"

Legolas closed his eyes again, swallowing a sob and trying to contain his tears. He had really bad luck; he had not even noticed when his father had arrived. It was as if he was always in the wrong place and saying exactly the wrong things.

"Say it!" Thranduil repeated, and the child gulped.

"You are going to punish me... because I... I told the twins about your fights in the forest."

"That is not the reason."

That was not the reason. Legolas knew that. The reason was one that always set father and son against each other. Only one subject was worse in his relationship with his father than his desire to leave the cave so that he could see a bit of the forest. And that was the one they were going to talk about now.

"I... I do not know... I do not know, _ada_... Do not be angry," he mumbled, still trying to avoid what he feared was an inevitable battle.

Thranduil shook his arm then. "Stop trying to deceive me. You must think you are pretty smart to use such tactics."

Give it up, foolish elfling, Legolas thought, but he silenced that inner voice sadly. He knew there was no turning back now that his father was so angry with him. It would take long days of Thranduil's coldness, even with the received punishment, before the King would forgive him or even pretend that he had forgotten what he had done. He pressed his eyes closed, hating himself for letting it happen again.

"Say it!" Thranduil ordered one last time.

"I will be punished because... I have talked about... I have talked about the things I... the things I see... "

"About the things you dream of," Thranduil corrected him emphatically, and Legolas clenched his fists. Over the years he was sure that the images he usually saw were not just dreams. Why did his father insist on trying to make him believe otherwise?

"But I did not tell them that..."

"Legolas!" Thranduil said in warning, raising the tone of his voice, interrupting him, and the child swallowed the words he knew were not part of what his father wanted to hear.

"I told them about the things I dream of..." he said, unwillingly correcting his last words, lowering his sad face. "Things which are not real."

"What will your punishment be?" the King asked, standing up again and looking around.

Legolas sighed. He understood his father well enough to know what it meant when he did that. The subject was closed. And from that moment on he would not offer him even a look or a word. It was always thus.

"I will stay in my room until _ada_ ... _ada_ allows me to leave," he sadly answered.

"Very well," Thranduil said, clasping his hands behind his back, and Legolas looked up at him. His father's blond curls slid over his brown robe as infinite intertwined gold rings, some of them captives of heavy braids. On his head was the spring crown the Queen made for her husband every morning, and he always wore it, just to please her. _Elbereth_, how Legolas loved him; why did his father have to be so angry with him again?

"Forgive me, _ada_," he said, and the King slightly shuddered. Legolas did not know what kind of emotion could arouse such a reaction. Was it love? Was it hate?

Thranduil filled his chest with a deep breath and stiffened his shoulders.

"Fulfill your princely obligations, Legolas," he said, moving slowly toward the steps. "And you will never have to ask me for forgiveness."

Then he walked away, climbed the steps and opened the door separating the gardens from the cave and left with no other word.

How long until he would see him again? The King rarely shared his meals when there were visitors in the kingdom. And now he would not see his father even after Lady Celebrian and her family were gone. Legolas closed his eyes and hid his face behind his hands. The tears finally came. Then he sat on the steps, unwilling to go, unwilling to do anything.

* * *

In time the tears decreased and he just clung to his knees and sat, watching the last elves going home. Soon he would only see them from the balcony of his room. _Ilúvatar_, was it not enough being stuck in this cave? Would he now have to stay in the room that he hated without even the chance to sleep in his mother's tree out in the garden? He tried hard not to despair.

He felt someone sit beside him, then, and gently slide a hand through his hair.

"You left me waiting," a sweet voice said.

It startled him. "Arwen... I... I'm sorry," he replied, embarrassed. _Ilúvatar_, he had forgotten the reason why he went to look for the twins and had left the young lady of Imladris waiting for him all this time. He was a fool, a useless one. His father was right. He was incapable of doing anything correctly.

"It is all right, Las," the beautiful elf calmly assured, wiping away the tears that were still on the prince's pale face. Legolas hid himself immediately, feeling ashamed once more. It was the perfect complement for a day like his had been: Arwen seeing him crying. He began to feel his father's punishment was not a bad idea; he should stay in his room eternally.

"I... I was coming back... Forgive me..." he said, trying to apologize and escape from this embarrassing situation while wiping his face with both palms.

"Las... what happened?"

"Nothing, _Undomiel_..."

"But you are sad now. And you were not when you left the room to look for my brothers. Tell me, Las. Did Elrohir upset you with one of his jokes?"

"No," Legolas said, immediately defending the twin. "The _El_ are good to me... Both of them… I have them here." He put his hand over his heart and Arwen smiled, making the prince wish to hide his face again because of embarrassment.

"So... You are crying about someone else," the dark haired young lady deduced, and Legolas shuddered.

"No… I am not crying about anyone… I am not…" he tried to say, but as he stared into the Lady's questioning eyes, the elfling felt that he did not want to lie anymore. He didn't want to lie, he didn't want to have to think about every word he said. It was not fair. Why was he not as the other children he knew? Why wasn't he as Alagos and Thavanian? Why wasn't he the same way they were, always making their fathers proud, always making their fathers smile? _Elbereth! _He just wanted to be himself, but he couldn't. He couldn't be himself, because not even he was sure who or what he was.

"Las… Tell me what's wrong… I want to help you," he heard Arwen's gentle voice saying, and this time he wasn't brave enough to look at her.

"There's nothing wrong, _Undomiel." _He shook his head, praying to all the good keepers of the world to help him convince his friend of something not even he believed. "I am… I am just… tired… and…" he continued, risking another look into the young lady elf's beautiful eyes. It would have been better if he hadn't done that, because Arwen's serene eyes were still unconvinced and, worse than that, looking for a true answer. It was not right for him to be lying. He should tell the truth, even though it was a half-truth. "I... I cannot tell you, Arwen. I... If I say anything I... I cannot..."

"It is alright..." Arwen wrapped Legolas tenderly in her arms. She seemed convinced or at least satisfied for the moment. "There are things that do not need to be told, Las. I understand."

"I… I am sorry _Undomiel…"_ Legolas felt touched by the lady's attitude. It was a relief to know she would not question him anymore. He was already in too much trouble for what he had done. He didn't want to know he had offended or wounded his good and gentle friend.

Arwen breathed deeply, then moved Legolas a bit away from her to look into his eyes. Legolas allowed it but was caught by the sadness he saw.

"I am really sorry…" he said again, but Arwen just covered his lips with her fingers and forced a smile.

"Will you allow me to give you advice? Advice from someone who has seen more trees being born and dying than you?"

Legolas looked her in the eyes again, then he nodded in silence, and Arwen put her hand on his chest, bringing him immense peace.

"My little friend." She smiled at him and her words seemed to come from a dream. "Do not let sadness invade your heart because of the ideas your mind creates; the ideas you have about yourself, the ideas you think others have about you. Do not grieve for what you think you feel about yourself or for what you might think people feel about you, even if you think it must be true. Every single thing that happens to us has a reason, every single word we hear, every single step we take. Everyone has a destiny to fulfill. Some steps are easier, some are not. But we can't run away from our paths, we have to keep walking, we have to keep believing. So, when you feel confused about yourself or what is around you, believe only in what is certain inside you, right here." She gently applied pressure with the hand that was still on the prince's chest. "And never, I assure you, I assure you by all the stars of the sky, will you be mistaken."

Legolas clamped his lips together and then two tears rolled from his eyes. Arwen pulled him close and embraced him tenderly, kissing him on the top of his head.

"So," she said, her voice also choked with emotion. "Do you not remember why you left my room?"

Legolas frowned. "Oh…" he said, as he remembered.

"Then what are you waiting for? Go call them. I will wait for you in my room."

* * *

"But did you see the way he treats him, Dan?" Elrohir said as he walked angrily into his brother's room.

"Speak more quietly, Ro. Are you forgetting whom are we judging here? You cannot just talk about the King in his own palace. At the very least it shows a tremendous lack of diplomacy."

"And what do you call what he did there at the entrance?"

"Let us close this issue that does not concern us. I feel like these walls have ears, Ro. These foreign places are very different from ours. You cannot imagine the intrigues that might be a part of it. I do not want any distorted story making its way to Thranduil's ears."

Elrohir clicked his tongue. He really cared little for what the King thought of him. Elladan gave him a serious look.

"Damn it, Dan. You know that I am right."

"I know. But you also know that I am right as well."

The younger twin let out another sound of indignation, sitting heavily on his brother's bed. Elladan sat beside him and placed his hand on one of Elrohir's legs, squeezing his knee, as he always did when he wanted him to calm down.

"You will only find trouble, Ro. Quiet your spirit. Please do not forget that the one responsible for us here is our _naneth_."

The angry dark haired elf sighed deeply, trying to follow the advice received, when he heard a knock on the door.

"Come in, please," Elladan said.

The door opened and Legolas' sad face smiled at them.

"May I?" he asked politely, and Elladan smiled as well, sliding a few inches across the mattress to create a space between him and his brother.

"Of course, _pen-neth_," he said, placing his hand on the bed beside him. "Come sit with us."

Legolas took an uncertain step into the room, and then looked at the other twin, awaiting his approval as well. Elrohir smiled at him, indicating the place at his side with a slight movement of his head. The prince then hastened to sit between the brothers.

"So. What were you doing?" Elladan asked, helping him to sit.

"Nothing," Legolas replied shyly. "I have just come to do what _Undomiel_ had asked me to do before, but I had forgotten."

"And what was that?"

"Call you both."

"And where is she now?"

"She's in her room."

"Indeed. I remember our sister was teaching you how to draw landscapes. Am I right?"

Legolas stopped briefly, a little embarrassed.

"Yes... _Undomiel_ asked me to call you to see the work I did," he said, a bit insecure. "But if you cannot go now, there will not be a problem, Dan."

"Wait just a moment, Legolas..." Elrohir said in a challenging tone. "This interests me greatly. Did you finally manage to paint a sun that does not look like a fried egg?"

Elladan gave his brother a reproachful look, but Legolas fell into a fit of laughter, placing both hands over his mouth.

"Apparently not," finished the twin, standing up and taking the blonde prince's hand. "But I will take my chances to see your drawing. Are you coming, Dan? "

The older twin smiled, shaking his head at Elrohir's mocking tone. How people were still amused by Elrohir's sarcasm was something that the eldest son of Elrond had given up trying to understand. He also stood, lazily stretching his body.

"And I'm sure he will surprise us," he said, following the other two and putting a hand on Legolas' shoulder, who smiled at him.

"Of course he will," Elrohir said, prodding a bit more. He did not seem willing to go in the direction that Elladan wanted to take. "There are always different ways to draw a fried egg. What color did you make it this time, Legolas? That blue one you made is definitely among my favorites."

Legolas laughed again and Elladan shook his head once more. Elrohir's ability was a special mystery. It definitely was. A mystery without a shadow of explanation.

* * *

When the trio arrived at the guest room where the beautiful daughter of Celebrian was staying, they found her standing in front of the painting on which she had been working since she arrived. It was a portrait of Imladris Legolas had asked for, and that the lady had painted with care and affection. Elladan stopped beside his sister, looking at the landscape with a wistful gaze.

"It is perfect, little princess," he said. "Do you not agree, Elrohir?"

The twin approached as well, taking the other side of their younger sister and analyzing the picture carefully. He twisted his lips, bent his head from one side to the other, shifted his stance a little and scratched his chin. He folded his arms, letting time pass painfully without giving his opinion, just because he knew it would annoy his sister terribly. In Imladris, there was a unanimous opinion that Elrohir was the best artist in the whole region. That was why his opinion was so important to his sister.

"You are cruel, _toron nîn,_" the beautiful elf complained at last. "I hope you are having fun."

Elrohir lifted the corner of his mouth, seemingly pleased with the feeling he'd aroused. Then he turned to the elfling who had quietly approached the group and now was in front of the canvas with lips slightly open and a dreamy look on his face.

"What do you think, little one?" he asked. "Is this landscape convincing?"

Legolas glanced at him immediately, looking as if he had just woken up. What had Elrohir asked him? If the landscape was convincing?

"What does _convincing_ mean, Elrohir?"

The three of them laughed and Arwen took the prince's little hand.

"It means to look real, Las," she explained with a simple smile. "Does it look real?"

"No," Legolas responded immediately and Arwen frowned, unable to disguise her disappointment. She looked at the picture again. It was the portrait of the center of Rivendell, the steps in front, the side yard where her father liked to read, the spring trees adorned with new leaves and the great hedge with the red flowers that embraced the entire side of the house. She turned then to the prince, who seemed not to have noticed the sad feeling he had awakened. He kept his eyes fixed on the landscape.

Elladan, who seemed to be the only one who realized the meaning of the elfling's answer, sighed.

"Legolas, could you tell _Undomiel_ why you do not think her painting is convincing?" he asked in a calm tone, and the elfling looked again to the brothers, before turning to look at the beautiful landscape.

"Because it cannot be real," he replied with the sincerity that all children have. "Only if it is _Aman_. _Nana_ told me that _Valinor_ is the most beautiful place. We have some pictures of it in the books on the shelf of my _ada's_ office."

Arwen sighed then, looking at her brothers. Elladan smiled and Elrohir winked at her, putting his arm around her shoulders and squeezing them slightly.

"It is perfect, little princess," he also assured.

"Thank you," she said with her nightingale voice. She knelt in front of the little blond prince. Legolas looked at her without understanding, turning his face to the canvas once more.

"Arwen, does this place really exist? Do you live there?"

"Of course it does, _Little Squirrel_," she assured in a friendly tone. "And yes, we live there, and when you are older, we will take you there."

Legolas smiled broadly then, looking at the painting with fresh eyes.

"Are you really going to give it to me?"

"Yes," Arwen said in a satisfied voice, standing up again. "It was yours since before I brushed the first colors onto the canvas."

The elfling sighed heavily then and went to stand only a few inches before the work. He was so in love with the place in the picture that he had not even remembered to thank the lady for the present.

Elrohir noted the prince's interest carefully.

"When I return to Rivendell I will also make some drawings of the city to bring to you when next we visit," he promised, and Legolas nodded, still staring at the details of Arwen's beautiful painting.

"It is still so hard to believe that such a place exists," he said, taking a deep breath. The brothers looked at each other and smiled, thinking how different the forests where he lived were from the land their father had created for the peace of his people.

"Well," Elrohir said, cutting the silence and rubbing his hands. "When are we going to see your landscape?"

Legolas then turned pale again, looking worriedly at Arwen now. The young lady smiled gently and Elladan approached the elfling.

"Show us, Legolas. Elrohir will not tease you," he assured, casting a stern look at his younger brother that made him the most faithful copy of their father. The twin, however, was not intimidated, crossing his arms stubbornly.

"I cannot promise that," he said in a mocking tone, but this time he was surprised that Legolas had not laughed. The little elf seemed very concerned by the fact that he was being obliged to show his work.

"Show them, Legolas," Arwen encouraged him.

"But ..." he said, beginning to argue.

"But what, elfling?" Elrohir asked. "What have you done with your landscape this time? Do not tell me you painted a moss green sky as you did in your first work? You should stop changing nature that way," he advised smiling. "The Valar may want to hire your services."

Legolas clamped his lips together nervously and Elrohir let his arms fall to his sides, finally deciding to be serious.

"What is wrong, Legolas?" he asked somberly. "It is just a picture. I promise I will not make any comments if that is what is bothering you."

"It is not that."

"So what, _pen-neth_?"

"It is that I... I..."

"You…?"

"I did not paint..." he walked slowly back to his painting, which was covered by a white cloth.

"You did not paint what?" the twin asked as he approached, encouraging him. His brother and sister did the same.

"I did not paint ..." he repeated, trying to explain as he pulled fearfully at the white cloth. "I did not paint a landscape."

"So what did you paint?" Elrohir asked, walking toward the canvas in order to decipher Legolas' puzzling behavior.

But the elfling did not respond. He just joined his hands nervously in front of himself, and the twins, totally disconcerted, looked at the painting before them.

"_Ilúvatar_." Elrohir had no power to even think of anything to say. "It ... is... "

"It is perfect ..." Elladan completed, gaping.

Before them, painted with an impressive richness of detail, was a portrait of the two brothers. Elrohir, with serious and dark eyes, was holding a sword, but the corners of his lips were lifted in a slight smile. Elladan was carrying a huge bow, holding two arrows nocked in the string together. The twins recognized themselves immediately, their roles portrayed without any shadow of doubt.

"He has excelled his limits, has he not, _El_?" Arwen said as she approached, stopping behind her brothers. "A reasonable landscape artist, but the best portrait painter I have ever seen. He painted without a model before him. He is better than you are, Elrohir."

"But I had a model," Legolas revealed, tightening his lips after saying that, as if he were suddenly worried about what he had just admitted. The twins turned to him with a questioning look.

"What model, Legolas?" Elrohir asked immediately. "You never saw us at a war camp… And we have never trained here."

The elfling then paled. He hated to see he had slipped again in speaking of the subject that his father had forbidden him to talk about. Wasn't the reprimand he had just received sufficient?

"I... I ..." he muttered, trying to think of something plausible to say. "I saw... I saw you here…" he finally said, putting his fingers to his temple.

"Did you dream about us?" Elladan asked, and Legolas nodded, insecure. Elladan frowned as if mystified, and turned toward his sister by his side. "_Undomiel_, have you told the little one war stories?"

Arwen frowned, her eyes joining those of her brother.

"I will ignore your question, _toron nîn_," she responded very seriously, also troubled.

Elladan sighed, turning now to his twin.

"And you, Elrohir? Tell me the truth! We all know that little ears should not hear about certain subjects."

Elrohir crossed his arms and his eyes darkened.

"I have good hearing, Elladan. And I know to respect our _naneth's_ requests."

Legolas fearfully followed the brothers' discussion.

"Nobody told me anything," he explained in a weak and scared voice, approaching his work, and removing it from the easel.

"What are you going to do, Legolas?" Arwen asked, seeing the elfling walk toward the door.

"Throw this picture into the fire. It was not a good idea to paint it. Nor was the work as good as I wanted."

"No!" the three siblings shouted in unison.

"If you do not want the picture, give it to me as a gift then." The lady took the painting out of the prince's hands. "A work of this magnitude does not deserve such a terrible end."

Legolas had stilled, looking at the work he had done, now held by the Evenstar.

"I painted it to remind me of them," he admitted then, already saddened by having to discard it. "But if you want it, Arwen, I give it to you with all my heart."

The young lady offered a sad smile, now kneeling before the prince.

"Have you really dreamed about my brothers?" she asked, and Legolas cringed where he was, hugging his body, the tone of his blue eyes changing strangely, and he looked as if he feared the twins might think badly of him as they stood behind their sister. Elladan and Elrohir looked at each other, puzzled. How the little prince could have discovered that Elladan preferred using the bow and arrow instead of the sword was a mystery, considering that, even in ambushes, Elladan always opted for using the sword first, like any warrior of the group.

"Did you dream about us, _pen-neth_?" the older twin asked again, kneeling down beside his sister.

Legolas nodded, afraid, thinking that the idea of a dream could fit as a satisfactory explanation. Elladan continued to look at him for a few moments, seeming to be unconvinced. He then sighed and smiled, extending his arm and pulling the prince to sit with him on Arwen's bed.

"I have to say that I like your painting very much," he said, looking now directly at Elrohir. "Have I not told you the little one would surprise you, _toron nîn_?"

The twins exchanged a meaningful glance, then the youngest smiled back, seeming ready to quit the subject for now.

"This is called inspiration," Elrohir said then, placing a clean canvas on the easel where Legolas' had been. "Sit there with them, _Little Star_," he said, and Arwen seemed fascinated, but obeyed, sitting beside the prince and leaving Legolas between her and Elladan.

"What is he going to do, Arwen?" Legolas asked, curious, seeing the younger twin casually mix some different colored paints. The Lady's eyes were bright. The dexterity with which Elrohir was handling the artist's tools was so fascinating that, while performing his work, he didn't seem like an elf at all. He seemed like one of the _Valar_, coloring the world in his own way.

"He will paint our picture, Las," she replied in a choked voice and Legolas frowned.

"Do you mean we will have to stay here for days until he finishes it?"

Elrohir laughed then, holding one of the brushes between his teeth while mixing the paint with two others. Without knowing it he was mixing colors together that would create one of the best memories Legolas would have of them for a very long time.

And that, despite contrary promises of the sons of Celebrian, was the last time Legolas saw the twins and their sister together in Thranduil's Kingdom. The picture Elrohir had painted, as well as Arwen's, were the only personal objects Legolas kept of his own accord in his bedroom, even after his mother was gone. He had kept them hidden in one of the wardrobes, and when he was missing them all too much, even when he was already a grown elf, he would crawl inside that wardrobe just so that he could see them, to remember those faces and their affection that time could not erase.


	2. CONFLICT IN THE FOREST

Disclaimer: The Lord of the Rings and all its characters and sceneries belongs to JRR Tolkien.

* * *

_**II - CONFLICT IN THE FOREST**_

* * *

_Through these fields of destruction_

_Baptism of fire_

_I've witnessed your suffering_

_As the battles raged higher_

_And though they did hurt me so bad_

_In the fear and alarm_

_You did not desert me_

_My brothers in arms_

_**Brothers in Arms**__ (fragment) _- Mark Knopfler_  
_

* * *

Occasionally, certain images of childhood came back to Legolas' mind, scenes of the past, sounds of laughter, looks of approval, feelings of homesickness. It usually happened when he rode with his patrol near the limits of Mirkwood, watching the Anduin River from afar, listening to the waterway, witnessing scenes he had not seen when he lived cloistered inside the king's halls. Those imaginary lines of demarcation were almost a request for the past to open its doors again. How often he wanted to cross them, to seek old paths and revisit rusty emotions, and especially to try to discover the whereabouts of some people.

"I smell the rain," he thought aloud, distracted by the various scenes that were coming to his mind.

"It is the Anduin," Thavanian explained as he rode at the prince's side. "You always say that when we pass this place. The river smells like rain."

"Have you ever seen the rain, Thavanian?"

The elf's lips curled into a reminiscent smile.

"When we crossed the river once. We were soaked to the bone."

Legolas was lost in thought once more, trying to create an image he had never seen before. The trees of Mirkwood had grown deformed, twisted and gnarled and so closely wound together that no rain could make it through the dark canopy overhead. He had often heard the rain, he had seen the ephemeral marks the raindrops created on the river on hot days, but that was all he had seen. Actually he had never experienced the rain, felt the cold and clear water on his body, enjoyed the pleasant chill that he believed it would bring him, nor had he hid himself in some warm shelter, perhaps to enjoy it from afar. It was not fair. Thavanian, although just few years older than him, had lived more remarkable experiences.

Thavanian was one of Legolas' childhood friends, the prince didn't have many and wasn't so close to any of them as he was to him. Perhaps that was one of the reasons, besides his war skills, that moved the king to choose the Sindar elf to be Legolas' bodyguard. That was one of the reasons; another one, Legolas was sure, was the fact that his blond friend was always willing to defend his king with all his heart.

"You are the prince, Legolas. You know that, before you had come of age, the king did not deem it safe for you to depart from his halls, even for a short ride. You still had to learn to defend yourself," Thavanian said, looking askance at his captain, as if reading his thoughts.

Legolas clicked his tongue, letting the word _prison_ escape in a quiet whisper, while he stroked his horse's mane.

"That is an injustice to your father." His friend's intention to protect the king had never been more evident. "If his objective was actually to keep you locked up, you would not be here now, playing the role you play."

The prince sighed, lowering his head. Every single disagreement they ever had was the same; it was useless to carry on about it. He shook his head slightly then, but said no more. Out of the corners of his eyes he could see Thavanian smiling at him sympathetically. He was a good friend, a good friend with whom arguing about some subjects was a waste of time.

"Look on the bright side, _mellon-nîn_." The bodyguard lowered the tone of his voice to speak to his old friend in a more intimate way. "Now you are a captain and free from your father's interference. You won the role by showing your value and in half the time that anyone else ever reached such a position. The king had no choice but to allow your promotion and give you a patrol to command, something you'd wished for and had been asking him to do. And you know as well as I do that there is no soldier among us, even the most experienced ones, who can match the knowledge you have. You spent much time in front of books and maps during the confinement in which you lived—more than anyone in the realm, even the older soldiers."

"Books do not bring the entire teaching of Arda, Thavanian," Legolas said, without looking him in the eye. They had already had this conversation thousands of times in the past.

"Here we go again!" Thavanian smiled, seeming to have the same feeling as his friend. "From what I have seen, your books brought you what you needed to know, because there has been no situation you haven't known how to solve," he said, but then added, "And your arguments were always these:_ 'I once read that an elf behaved thusly'_, or '_From what I have read, if we mix these herbs we can cure this."_

Legolas tried not to, but he could not help smiling then, even without wanting to do so. Thavanianwould always be the same. Since they were children he had always tried to help him see his sad life with different eyes. Sometimes he could, sometimes not. That day Legolas was willing to follow his friends' path. They rode in silence then until they felt the warmth of the sun cool as it descended into the west. The forest around them was growing darker.

"The night falls," Thavanian remarked, moving his gaze carefully. "I believe that there is no way we can make the next stopping place before dark. Perhaps we should camp right here. What is your opinion, Captain?"

"I do not like the idea," Legolas said, wrinkling his nose, while looking at the trees that lined the pathway they followed. "I don't know if we have been riding more slowly or I made a mistake in my calculations, but this path seems to be much longer than the one we originally planned to take."

"I cannot stop admiring how easily you forget our misfortunes," Thavanian said. He smiled and shook his head. "Or do you think that our unfriendly meeting with that spider and its offspring cannot be classified as a hindrance? We lost a great deal of time in that unfortunate conflict."

Legolas closed his eyes for a moment, reliving the undeniably unpleasant scene, and then reopened them, continuing to look around.

"You are right, _mellon-nîn,_" he said with a sigh. "Classifying that meeting as a hindrance is all we can do."

Thavanian laughed and shook his head.

"Luck has favored you. After all, you managed to hit that one spider with a dagger when it had the mischance of falling upon you."

"It was defending its offspring," Legolas said, the memory turning his tone into a regretful one. He had been fighting against those creatures for a long time, but his heart always betrayed him when he found one of them protecting their own. He knew he was wrong to feel that way, it was pure stupidity, but it was a feeling he just couldn't avoid. Nature spoke to him in some mysterious ways, as it had this day. Beyond that, the spider's web had been enshrouding some valuable trees; they couldn't just set fire to them.

"Offspring of evil," Thavanian remembered with disgust. "That's what they were; creatures that would grow to suck the life out of our own people."

Legolas clenched his fingers a little more deeply into the mane of his horse. His heart was full of mixed feelings about this morning's struggle. He didn't like it when a day started that way, with that familiar voice which came from nowhere to whisper nearly undecipherable things in his ears. His childhood had been full of days and nights of voices and bad dreams. It no longer happened with frequency, but when the morning sun came up with sounds like that inside his mind and heart, it wasn't usually a good sign. "There are things in our world that are still beyond my comprehension," he said sadly.

"Certainly," Thavanian agreed in a lower voice now.

Legolas glanced at him briefly and noticed that Thavanian was still looking at him carefully. He pressed his lips together then. The question would come sooner or later, he knew. It always came. He just had to wait a bit longer and those words he hated more than anything else would come from his bodyguard's mouth:

"How are you feeling, My Prince?"

Legolas closed his eyes, swallowing another childhood feeling with which he hadn't yet learned to deal. People were always worried about him, always worried about his health. Was he thirsty, or hungry…

Everybody was worried about the prince…

The prince…

Everybody, except the most important person…

"My Prince?" Thavanian tried once more.

"Could you please stop calling me that?" Legolas asked between his teeth. He didn't want to be rude, so he tried to keep his voice low and patient, but in his mind he wanted to scream those words.

Thavanian didn't answer, but this time Legolas wasn't brave enough to raise his eyes in his friend's direction. He hated to act as a spoiled child.

"It has had no effect as of yet," he finally said, directing an apologetic look to his bodyguard. After all he knew the purpose of the question. Thavanian had his reasons to be worried about him. "I do not think the bite was severe; I have not even felt drowsy, which is a common effect of their venom."

"Even so, I want you to let me see how it is when we stop," Thavanian said, unconvinced. "I know you, _My Prince_," he said in an intentionally provocative tone this time, the corner of his mouth curved in a subtle smile. When Legolas looked away at the insinuation, he inclined his head so that Thavanian would know he continued to have his attention. "You have the bad habit of softening even the worst situations with evasive words."

Legolas sighed again, but nodded absently. His attention was already elsewhere, as he decided to stop thinking about his past hours, years or centuries and focus on the present. He was tired of remembering bad moments of his past, reminding him of mistakes, misfortunes…

It was then that something worse happened; a known feeling came to visit him, creeping along his spine. It was an old sensation he had from time to time, as if every pore of his body felt an invisible danger lurking around him. He'd had these feelings since childhood and was never able to find the reason for them. Sometimes they were clearer, as visions, as sounds, and sometimes they were like what was happening this very moment: unclear; hazy; vague. His eyes searched his surroundings then, but he could not see any concrete thing to justify this strange feeling.

Legolas took a deep breath, hoping the sensation would disappear soon. He had learned to do this when he was younger. Instincts were good, said his father, but when they were followed by images which didn't make sense, they should be forgotten, they should remain in the dark of his mind.

And this was one of those feelings, he knew that it was. He just had to close his eyes and open his mind and the image would come. Sometimes it came anyway, even without his consent. That was the worst part of it all; seeing the future, knowing it was true and not being allowed to talk to anyone, to search for anyone's help. Normally what he saw was a distant future, something he could not precisely predict, something he could not avoid, something he was fated to see with clarity.

The entire thing was unfair… His father hated for him to talk about this, whatever it was. Legolas was sure that he knew the reason. Why would the king be so angry about it if not because his son's ability to see an undeniable future was a curse, and he was a storm raven—a herald of things better left unknown.

Legolas breathed deeply again, refusing to get bogged down in those same thoughts, by that same guilty feeling. He had to focus on where he was, on what he had to do. He was a captain now, not a scared child who was visited by ghosts, by memories, by nightmares, by… by visions of the future.

"Legolas…" He heard Thavanian's voice again, and it somehow sounded strange. When he looked around, he noticed that some of his soldiers' eyes were also scanning the area around them as if they were having a similar feeling.

"What is the problem?" he promptly asked, immediately taking his bow to hand and capturing his group's attention.

"It is too quiet…" Ainion said, as if talking to himself. He was the patrol scout who had been riding some meters ahead, and his warning was enough to raise all those worrying feelings inside Legolas' heart again. Ainion was the only Silvan elf in the group, which was composed in its majority by experienced Sindar soldiers hand chosen by the king himself to be commanded by his son. Legolas hadn't liked that idea. He'd wanted to have some closer friends near him, but Thranduil refused to negotiate that the point, as he refused to listen to him most of the time.

Ainion was the only Silvan elf, but he was the individual in whom Legolas put more trust. The woods had dark secrets, dark feelings. Some elves could feel them better than others, specially the Silvan ones; Legolas was a half-blood elf, but to him, however, the feelings were even stronger. Living among these trees he loved, trying to ignore the ever-present fear that the forest exuded, was practically impossible. The oppression and distress that nature suffered here was something the Silvan elves felt keenly as well. The hearts of those trees beat inside him as if they were his... The Mirkwood Prince, he was called now, The Prince of the Dark Forest… It was exactly who he was, how he felt… but no title made him feel more sad than those two in particular.

The group grew quiet, eyes attentively scanning the area. In the distance the sound of thunder could be heard, and the smell of rain was also strong, but there, among those tall deformed trees all they could feel was the tiny particles of what seemed a ghost of rain, which did not even dampen their hair or shoulders.

The smell of rain. Legolas exhaled deeply. There was something more…

"I think we should camp among our old friends there…" Thavanian suggested in a hesitant tone. He still seemed uncomfortable, as if he were immersed in some somber thoughts. The group looked in the direction he pointed, at a number of large trees, and in the middle of them there was a small clearing, which had appeared over time and without much explanation. The dark wood had changed its ways in recent years and many of the differences did not make sense even to the forest elves now.

The idea roused Legolas' worries even more. He still had his bow in one hand, the other firmly fixed in his horse's mane.

"I don't know… I have a bad feeling about this place," he admitted, still scanning their surroundings. His eyes met Ainion's then. He was some good years older than Legolas was, and the only one chosen for the group by the prince himself. His hair was light brown, but his eyes were so deep a green, like the forest around him, that the color reminded Legolas of his father. He couldn't help thinking that. For this reason, when the first arrow came from nowhere and buried itself in the scout's shoulder, Legolas couldn't hold back a cry of pain.

"We are under attack!" he heard a voice shout. Maybe it was Thavanian's, he didn't know. He had already turned his horse in a half circle and had hit two of the enemy with his arrows.

Soon they were surrounded by a large group of orcs. They were jumping from the trees with the sounds of the thunderstorm getting louder and nearer. The clearing lit dimly with the flashes of light, which flickered among the twisted branches above, giving the place a grimmer aspect. In the middle of the conflict Legolas' horse shied suddenly, frightened by another unexpected attack. In its fear it reared up and its rider fell brutally to the ground.

Before he could understand what had happened, Legolas found himself facing a creature who was already bringing a sword down toward his chest. He managed to unsheathe one of his daggers but had no time to ready himself. The orc's blow came faster and stronger than Legolas could defend and he suddenly found himself disarmed.

Legolas' eyes rounded in surprise and, since he was still on the ground, all he could do was try to get his other dagger unsheathed. It was all happening too fast for him to think, too fast for him to calculate the time he needed to do that. An arrow streaked past his ear, and all Legolas could see was the enemy, who had been engaged in trying to kill him, be suddenly pierced by a precise shot in the middle of his forehead. His disgusting eyes had widened in shock before he fell without completing his intention. The prince looked around, not knowing from which of his elves the help had come, but he mentally thanked all of them, praying silently that the battle would not take anyone. He stood with that emotion filling his chest and loosed one more arrow, hitting another repulsive creature that was advancing on one of his warriors.

"Captain!" Thavanian's voice came from somewhere. They were involved in an intense battle, and the enemy seemed to be multiplying. Poor Thavanian could not see where his leader was in the midst of all the pandemonium. The good soldier was worried about him, which was an attitude that he had taken since they were children. Legolas had always told his friend that he was not called to be his bodyguard, but when the prince had been promoted to captain, Thranduil had awarded Thavanian the title, and he had officially assumed the role he had been performing since they both were small.

Legolas thought quickly. He was standing on a branch, from where he could see the orcs who were in the trees before they jumped to the ground. He had already shot many and was still pulling his arrows one by one and dealing with those who continued coming from the trees. Below him, he could hear his group's shouts as they faced the orcs who were already on the ground. He continued his attack, shooting arrow by arrow and moving from branch to branch, as a wild bird might. Soon he had lost count of how many orcs he had hit and had seen falling heavily from the branches. His quiver was empty before he knew it and before he thought it would be.

"More than twenty?" he asked himself incredulously, as he calculated his last actions. He had shot twenty-four arrows and was sure he hadn't lost any. Twenty-four arrows and there were still creatures attacking the members of his patrol.

Legolas felt a chill run down his spine, but tried not to give in to the feeling that aroused that sensation. He had no time for that, and without arrows all he could do was unite with his friends on the ground. He hid behind one larger branch for a moment to quickly study the battlefield below. His bow was still firmly in his hands, while he looked at a very worrying scene. A few steps from where he was, the bodies of two of his soldiers could be seen on the ground. Legolas took a deep breath when faced with the painful image, but the ongoing frenzy of the battle did not give him the time or opportunity to see if he could do anything for them.

Screams echoed through the forest while more orcs jumped from the trees above the elves. Legolas leapt to the ground in disbelief. "Where are all these monsters coming from?"

The night had completely fallen and the darkness made things even more difficult. _What a nightmare! This is no fight, this is a massacre!_ Legolas found himself thinking. He defended himself with his twin daggers when he was pressed by three of the enemy who had cornered him against one large tree. Quick glances around him while he fought revealed bloodied bodies on the ground; Orc bodies in dark pools… Elven bodies with no light. He had just one moment to taste the bitter truth of the scene, when one of his daggers escaped from his hand.

One of the orcs was enormous, and he managed to knock the prince's dagger away, but the look on his face showed that he hadn't anticipated the elf's next move. Legolas knocked the brute senseless when he butted heads with it. Its face revealed shock at the impact, surprised by his much smaller opponent's aggressiveness. He moved back a step and, although his retreat was less than Legolas wanted it to be, it was enough to allow him to escape from the trap. Legolas sunk his blade into its abdomen, and the other two were killed when the prince followed through with a circular sweeping turn of his dagger. With no time to rejoice in his enemies' demise, he ran through the clearing, looking for more weapons to use in this endless conflict.

There were already two of the enemy coming in his direction when he ran toward one of his fallen friends. The beasts were bearing down on him, when he crouched and grabbed two of the arrows from the quiver and shot them in quick succession, killing them both before he even had a chance to stand again. He had no time to remove the quiver from beneath his dead friend's body, so he continued to crouch where he was, aiming and shooting, killing enemies from a reasonable distance. He had to be careful, knowing his friends were engaged with their adversaries in the darkness, with only minor starlight to distinguish them from the orcs. He acted with double attention. He would never forgive himself if he hit one of his companions by mistake.

Legolas used the last arrows out of his friend's quiver. When there were none left, he crawled closer to another fallen soldier. However, at that moment his luck ran out. The second elf, whose body lay over the roots of a huge tree, had no weapons at all.

In fact, it was worse than that…Even in the dimness, he recognized his Silvan friend…

"Ainion…" he quietly lamented, resting his hand on the cold back of his soldier. "Be at peace, _mellon nîn_," he sadly said, fighting the feeling that was poisoning his heart: Could the course of the battle have already been decided? There were too many enemies for his small group, which was now even further reduced.

He had no time, no alternative, no other destiny, but to pull his friend's knife and enter the melee again. He would probably fall, but not before trying to reverse his fortunes.

He stood up then and when his eyes quickly scanned the clearing, he saw an encouraging image. His friend Thavanian was on his knees, but still brandishing his long sword against a group of orcs surrounding him. Legolas did not think twice. He blindly advanced, already throwing one of the weapons in his hand and hitting one of the orcs in the back.

The creature's cry of pain gave Thavanian an instant of advantage, which he used to stand and cut off both of his opponents' heads with a single spin of his sword. He kicked one of them away with an anger that was characteristic of him when he was fighting. Legolas' slight smile, held only for a moment, showed his admiration for his friend's amazing ability, and Thavanian gave him a brief glance of gratitude.

They continued fighting as best they could, Legolas with a dagger and Thavanian with his sword. They turned, back to back, in the center of the conflict, moving as if they were one single body. The disadvantage, however, quickly became apparent and unfortunately the good feeling of having someone to fight side by side with didn't last too long: slowly and painfully they were forced to watch as their companions' light faded into the darkness, their shouts forever silenced. Soon they realized that the conflict was quickly coming to a tragic end.

"Captain, you must go. You must get out of here." Thavanian was the first of the two last elves in that battle to accept the inevitability of their situation. The prince must be saved. He could not perish with his elves in an ambush. Not while his bodyguard was there. His function was to protect the king's son at any cost. Thranduil's instructions had been very clear.

Legolas didn't hear, or pretended not to, while defending himself from the group of orcs that surrounded them.

"Go, Legolas... It is over... You will not fall on this ground..." Thavanian insisted, straining to find strength to fight and convince the prince at the same time.

"Do not waste your energy... to distract me... with nonsense," Legolas complained, while they both spun to protect themselves from enemies who, with the fall of the other members of the elven group, now surrounded them.

"You have to go. It is the king's decree!" Thavanian yelled then, receiving another attack the best that he could and gritting his teeth in rage. The orcs had a terrifying advantage. "I will protect you. Jump into a tree as soon as you have the opportunity. If the way is clear, you can travel through the branches to safety."

"Shut up, Thavanian. I am going nowhere."

"Legolas!"

"Do not ... make me... repeat..." The prince's voice fell away as he frantically tried to focus. There were so many opponents and Thavanian was distracting his senses with all his annoying chatter.

Legolas felt his friend snort in response, and then Thavanian started to push him closer to the larger trees.

"Go!" he ordered vehemently. "Or our death will be meaningless… Do not dishonor me… Let me fulfill my duty to our king."

Legolas breathed deeply, torn between what he wanted to do and what he knew he had to do. Not following Thavanian's instructions would be like clearly disobeying his father, and he knew very well what that meant. But he could not do it; he could not abandon his friend and run away as a coward would do.

However, before he could make his brain and his heart work together, Legolas heard an agonizing cry from his friend and felt him fall. He turned quickly to see that Thavanian was on his knees again, his hands over a wound in his abdomen. The aggressor's eyes, though, were already focused on his new prey. The orc lifted his weapon again, but could not complete his purpose. Legolas was faster and, in a moment, the enemy was on the ground with the prince's knife in his throat.

The possibility of losing his friend drove any thought of self-preservation from Legolas' mind, and he started to fight like a furious animal that is mercilessly trapped.

He stood closer to his bodyguard, who remained on his knees without the energy to stand again, trying to defend himself and his friend from the attacks of another orc, whose weapon was similar to the one he was using. Legolas received the attacks firmly, trying to use his body to protect his friend.

"Go..." He heard the faint voice of Thavanian command. "We are... defeated..."

Legolas clenched his teeth together. Those words were harder for him to ignore than the scene around them. Out of the corner of his eye, he tried to see the extent of Thavanian's injury, but could not. It was already quite dark and the lack of his elven friend's light was an alarming sign.

The orc in front of him finally fell, but another one was approaching. Legolas grimaced but did not falter. He shook his weapon fiercely at the remaining enemies. The absence of any other movement around him made him accept the fact that the members of his group were terribly wounded or had died altogether. Yes, some of his friends had gone to meet _Mandos_, the Doomsman of the Valar, but they had done their jobs. They had died with honor. He would not let them lose their glory.

Legolas was a good soldier, an experienced warrior and, at that moment, he was someone who believed he had nothing else to lose. Maybe all these characteristics together were the reason he was transformed into an implacable fighter, a fighter for whom the remaining number of enemies he still had to face no longer mattered. He struck down one, two, three of the orcs and, one by one, soon all of them were on the bloody ground and around the prince there was a towering pile of dead bodies.

Legolas stopped then, a bloodied weapon still held firmly in his hand, his rounded eyes scanning the area in disbelief, as if, at any time, another wave of orcs would materialize and attack him.

"_Elbereth!_" he finally claimed, lowering his weapon a bit, but still scanning the area. He forced himself then to move to each of his elves, still hoping to find some alive. He checked their signs, one by one, reading the lines he feared to see written there: All of the inert bodies of his elves had no light of existence gracing them anymore. All those brave soldiers had gone, had died.

_How had it come to this? How? _The question came to Legolas so strongly that it was the only thing he could think of, as he crouched beside Thavanian's injured body, checking his wound. It was only when hearing his friend's muffled sound of pain that Legolas realized that he hadn't even looked at Thavanian's face.

"I'm sorry…" He didn't know what to say. He was exhausted, felt cold and hot, fear and anguish, sorrow and hate. He was overtaken by those emotions and did not know how to contain or control them. He was sorry; he was sorry for a lot of things.

"You should have... gone, stubborn... elf," the hurt soldier said through gritted teeth, while Legolas did what he could to stop his bleeding.

"Do not talk anymore," Legolas advised in a sad tone, finishing what he was doing and offering his friend some purple petals. "Chew them."

Thavanian refused, twisting his head away. "If... if you want to... make me sleep... Forget it..."

"Chew them, Thavanian!" Legolas looked at him with urgency. "Do not defy me, at least not now."

They looked at each other, but to Legolas' relief the other elf just sighed, parting his lips and accepting the offer hesitantly. Legolas also sighed, staring more closely at his friend. He knew that Thavanian had recognized the medicament they had just found during their journey and had remembered its effect: _Valarian, _an herb of sleep. He could read his bodyguard's fears. Sleep would mean leaving Legolas alone in the forest. But the good elf just accepted it because he had no choice.

The fact is that Thavanian could read the state of his spirit more than anyone who was under his command. He knew that, with Legolas overcome by all that had happened, opposing him in this situation would not be the best of plans.

"Make a _talan_, Las," he heard Thavanian say in an affectionate tone, touching his hand. Now that they were alone, titles were no longer necessary. They were just as they had always known each other, as childhood friends. "Do you think you can make a_ talan_ without help?"

Legolas lowered his face, almost unable to respond. He was so distressed that words seemed to have abandoned him. He just nodded his head.

"And... take... take the antidote..." Thavanian remembered to tell him, already closing his eyelids. "If... if the fever comes... it will be less... intense."

Legolas nodded again, watching his friend's eyes close. He then sat for a moment on his heels and covered his face with blood-stained hands. _Ilúvatar_, he still had much to do. He needed to build a shelter and bury their dead.

"Oh, Sweet _Elbereth_..." he lamented, turning to look at his sleepy friend. Thavanian's injury was very serious and there was still a great chance that the weapon was poisoned. "Guide me, please, dear _Elbereth_."

As Legolas gazed around, he found himself facing an ultimate battle. He had to fight back unwelcome tears. His mind was totally occupied with the undeniable wish to fall there, to fall by Thavanian's side, to give up; not just because he was so tired, but because he couldn't accept the fate of his patrol, the fate of his friends. For the _Valar's_ sake, what had happened? How could he have lost his entire number in a place so far away from the areas at risk? How? How had that happened?

"I should have been more cautious... I should have listened to my instincts..." It was all he could say, while his brilliant blue eyes registered that unforgettably sad scene. "_Elbereth_… my group… my warriors…" He said, looking at each elf who was there. "My… friends… My friends… I lost them… I lost them all…"

Legolas shook his head then, feeling that admitting the truth had not helped him to pull himself together. He needed to remember the things he'd learned in order to be named a captain. Books could teach anything, and so could the older and wiser elves with whom he had studied and prepared himself his entire youth. But the reality was totally different. The reality was not just a picture or text on a piece of paper. The reality was not a sensible voice. The reality had other sounds, other images. The reality had its true colors, had its taste, had its smell...

Legolas breathed deeply, closing his eyes for a second, but he did not dwell any longer on those dismal thoughts. He had no time for that; he had no right to allow these things to consume him, not when he had so much to do.

Soon the tired and weary prince was looking again at the remaining member of his group, and his heart insisted on believing in a different future, at least for Thavanian. Even if everything had gone wrong until this very moment, he could still do something right; he could try to save his friend.

The prince took a deep breath and then stood up, filling his mind with other more useful thoughts while he weighed the questions he was asking himself on an imaginary scale of values and risks. First, he considered lighting a fire. Thavanian needed to be warm. The problem was that, alone, they would be an easy target if they had light drawing attention to them. However, in the dark and surrounded by the fresh kills their fallen comrades represented, without the fire they would attract marauding animals.

Legolas chose to start a fire, but he decided he would maintain it only until he had finished building a talan for them, asking _Ilúvatar_ that nothing unforeseen or unpleasant would happen while he was busy with that.

Slowly he worked on the first of his tasks, collecting some small pieces of wood and building a fire with them. Then he brought Thavanian closer to the flames, checking his improvised bandages again, and realizing there was unexpected bad news: his friend's temperature had risen considerably, even with the herbs he had given him.

Legolas tried not to despair. He still had alternatives, and there was another medicine Thavanian could take, but for that it would be necessary to heat some water. Yes, the campfire was definitely the right decision.

He put a cup over the fire, boiled the water and put the herbs he needed into it, then cooled it a bit. The worst part was spending a significant amount of time trying to convince the already dull and feverish Thavanian to drink it. Dealing with his injured friend made those tormenting thoughts return again.

Legolas stayed crouched by his friend's side for a time, monitoring Thavanian's fever and his own thoughts. Both weren't welcome and needed to disappear as soon as possible. But Legolas still had to deal with them. After a time the first one ceased and, with it, the second one followed. With the help of the drug, Thavanian's fever lowered and Legolas was finally able to breathe freely again when it did. He closed his eyes and thanked the good _Nienna_ for that. Yes, there was always hope. He knew he could not stop believing that.

However there were more problems to solve, so he returned to organizing his affairs again. He had to build a shelter, but he could not just leave the field the way it was. All that spilled blood was a risk. What should he do first?

He made a decision then, not caring at the moment whether it was the wisest thing to do. He breathed deeply, looking for courage inside himself, and went to do the worst task any warrior could have. He got up and stumbled through the woods, separating all the corpses that were there into two groups, alike yet different at the same time. At last, at one extremity of the camp, there was a pile of the corpses of their enemies, black with their own blood, and, at the other end, laid neatly in a row, was the sad remainder of those who had been in his patrol.

When Legolas finished that difficult task, his face was bathed in sweat and grief. He stopped for a moment, in front of his lifeless friends, feeling the path of tears as he finally freed them to flow down his face. He couldn't remember when he'd allowed them to come and that made him suddenly realize that a strange numbness was overtaking him, as if the pain of this loss was slowly dominating him, taking control of the sensations he felt, anesthetizing him.

Legolas took a few steps away and leaned against a tree, breathing deeply to regain his control. _Elbereth_, it was so hard to take in the horrible scene, but he could not afford the luxury of allowing himself to be carried away by despair.

At that moment he was taken by another terrible dilemma. What would he do with the bodies? Should he burn the corpses? Right here? Without anyone to aid him? It was very dangerous, it would attract attention, and it could put the defenseless trees around them at risk.

Legolas closed his eyes again, listing the pros and cons, before he decided what to do. He approached the fire and threw more kindling onto it. Watching the sticks burn to ashes only made him more cautious about the forest. He definitely could not endanger these friendly trees. No. Burning the corpses was not a wise idea. He would not be able contain such a large fire by himself.

He looked at the nearby trees in anguish, thinking of the macabre possibility of a major accident. But as he gazed into the upper branches, another no less disturbing conclusion came to him. There was no tree amongst these in which he could build a talan, since he was not yet desperate enough to cut the branches that would be in his way.

"_Elbereth_." The prince's lips let out a long distressed sigh. Why was he a captain? Where were the qualities Thavanian so enthusiastically said he had?" he asked himself, without realizing that maybe fatigue was fast overtaking him, and that perhaps he was starting to feel the effects of the spider venom. It took a few moments for him to fight off the despair again.

It was then that something unexpected happened. He heard a strange noise in the woods. He quickly raised his knife, but his hand began to shake, even against his will. _Ilúvatar_, _not another attack_, he thought, already looking for his bow and quiver. He had left them near the pile of his enemies. He walked stealthily in that direction, trying to distance himself from the fire so that he could not be so easily seen. If they were attacked, at least he would not be an easy target. He had to get his weapons or he would have no chance to defend his friend and himself.

"Peace, soldier," came a voice from the forest, but the face of its owner had not yet come into view. "We are elves. Would you share with us your camp and your fire?"

Legolas stopped and his heart missed a beat. He lowered his weapon slightly with the sound of that voice. There was something familiar about it, but he failed to recognize what it could be.

"I ask you to come nearer to the light then; so that I may see you," he said.

"All right," the other voice answered, and Legolas could finally see a figure emerging from among the dark leaves and, behind him, a group of about a dozen others appeared.

"Your patrol was attacked, soldier?" the elf asked, more stating the fact than inquiring about it. He looked toward the pile of dead orcs the prince had made.

"Yes, sir."

A moment of silence followed, during which the mysterious newcomer seemed to analyze the sad scene around him. "Where have you come from?" he asked, a more solemn tone in his voice now.

"It is you who have come." Legolas took a step forward, his fingers still clutching his weapon. In spite of the familiar and respectful tone of the stranger, he was unhappy at not being able to see his face. "I asked you to identify yourself."

The figure in the dark went silent again, and Legolas could see his body tense, but then the elf turned to look around the camp once more and loosened his shoulders, seeming to understand Legolas' apprehension.

"We are from _Imladris_," he said in a calm tone, and his voice sounded even more familiar, like when you hear an old song, one that reminds you of so remote a past that memories of your childhood almost become tangible things. "We are one of our city's patrols."

Legolas was even more unsettled. His heart refused to slow down its frantic pace.

"What is an _Imladris_ patrol doing in the king's forest?" he asked, performing his role as prince. Even alone, it was his duty to protect his people's land.

"We were running after those creatures there," the newcomer said, raising his forefinger in the direction of the pile of orcs, but letting his arm fall with a frustrated sound. "We were late, I can see…"

Legolas frowned, but before being able to think about his next question, the other elf took another step.

"May I approach? My friends will stay where they are until you are comfortable with our presence and you and I have had a chance to talk."

Legolas bit his lower lip. That voice. He had heard it before… He was still uncertain, but lowered his weapon a bit more, an act that the stranger interpreted as a positive response.

"I will leave my weapon here," he heard him offer then, and could see him taking his sword and handing it to someone that stood beside him. "My brother keeps it as we speak."

_My brother keeps it_. The prince repeated the phrase in his mind, and the word _brother_ rang differently from the others he had heard from the strange newcomer, making him feel an inexplicable sentimental sensation, as if doors were opening slowly, but were still revealing nothing of their dark rooms.

"So be it," Legolas finally agreed, feeling there was no better alternative. "Do as you have offered."

"All right." The elf then stepped forward, walking slowly through the trees on the edge of the clearing where Legolas stood. The prince followed his movements attentively.

"Are you the captain?" Legolas asked when he realized that, in fact, the elf seemed more interested in studying his surroundings, than properly studying the supposed enemy he might be.

"Yes…" He heard him answer absently, still walking slowly through the camp. The stranger gazed at the pile of orcs as he passed them, always avoiding the path of light. When he stopped briefly in front of the elven bodies, he placed a hand respectfully on his chest, before turning to the prince. "And you? Are you the captain?"

Legolas held his breath. "No," he lied, as the rules of his father demanded he answer. "My captain is there. He is hurt."

It was then that the elf looked at Thavanian. "May I?" he asked politely and Legolas gave him permission with a slight nod. Legolas kept monitoring the elf's firm walk until the light of the fire shone slightly onto his face. Unfortunately there was not quite enough illumination for him to be clearly seen. "It looks serious," the elf captain observed in a concerned tone, inclining his body a bit to look at Thavanian more closely. Soon he glanced back at the prince. "We have a healer in our group. Would you like him to come and see after your captain?"

Legolas tightened his lips and the bad feeling of not yet having identified the warrior's voice was replaced by a bigger concern. He had not been able to make a perfect suture in his friend's wound. The presence of a healer would be most convenient.

"Or are you a healer?" the elf then asked, turning and moving a step in his direction. He had his back to the fire so Legolas still could not see him clearly. "I see that you have already attempted first aid."

"No. I am not," Legolas hurried to respond. "I am only a soldier and I could barely suture the wound. I fear that the orc weapon might have been poisoned."

"Then let me see him, please," another voice said, sounding suddenly from the direction where the first elf had come, a voice almost identical to the newcomer's.

"Peace," the captain repeated, when he noticed Legolas had again instinctively raised the dagger he was holding. "This is my brother. One of the best healers in _Imladris_. I ask you to permit him to join us."

Legolas frowned, feeling a cascade of memories explode into his mind, tightening his chest. _My brother... a healer... Imladris..._ Those words had finally taken on some meaning, slowly allowing an idea to form in the prince's mind, filling him with a mixture of sureness and uncertainty, of anticipation and dread.

"Thank you..." Legolas forced himself to say, and the figure walked in wide steps in Thavanian's direction. The prince followed the movement with attention, analyzing the new stranger cautiously.

"What have you given to him, soldier?" the healer asked, already crouched in front of Thavanian.

"_Valarian_… a mild sedative which helped him to sleep… I put some _Sagdatloira_ on the wound and gave him a mix of herbs to contain the fever," the prince answered, trying to ride the wild animal of new sensations which were consuming him inside. "We do not carry many drugs and we had just escaped a conflict with a large brown spider."

The healer looked up in surprise. "A wild brown one?"

"Yes, sir..." Legolas replied.

The elf looked at him for a few more moments, and then directed his attention to Thavanian again, removing the bandages Legolas had improvised to check the condition of the injury.

"You did a good job, soldier," the healer said, without looking at him again.

Legolas sighed in relief, but when he saw that the captain of the group had lit a torch from the fire and had finally moved in his direction he stepped back.

"Peace," the elf said again as he raised his left hand. "Let me see your face. I am no threat, soldier."

_You will see my face and I will see yours_, Legolas thought, although memories had already unveiled the mystery that had been plaguing him. He knew very well who this stranger was, even trying to deny the fact to himself.

The captain raised the torch and Legolas narrowed his eyes.

"I am sorry," the other elf said as he moved the flame away. "I had forgotten the eyes of the _Silvan_ elves from the Dark Forest have become more sensitive to light. You are _Silvan_, are you not?"

_Silvan_... Legolas said to himself. _A mongrel… a half-breed. That is what I am. That was what the children called me when I was a child. That is what some people call me now behind my back._

"Yes, I am," the prince said, finally raising his eyes and recognizing that face, line by line, before him.

"I am Elrohir, son of Elrond Peredhel, the Lord of _Imladris_. That's my twin brother, Elladan."

"Hello," Elladan simply said in greeting, without taking his eyes from what he was doing.

Legolas exhaled forcefully now. "You are known to me," he finally said, wondering how best not to lie more than necessary. He understood the wisdom of following protocol, but he knew these elves and had trusted them once.

"Do you know us from somewhere, soldier?"

"You both used to visit the King's Halls in the past," Legolas said hesitantly, trying to decide how much information to give them. He had to follow the rules, in order to comply with his father's edicts. He was not allowed to give his identity to any who might pose a danger to him. But did that apply in this situation? He had known these elves in the past, but had not seen them in many years.

The corners of Elrohir's lips rose as if he had been taken by a pleasant memory. "Yes. We used to go there in the spring time," he replied, his mind lost in images of the past. "But you are young, aren't you?" he asked then, facing the archer. "That was a good many seasons ago. We used to visit the palace in a time of supposed peace, which turned out to be a complete delusion."

"I know," Legolas said. "Thavanian and I knew the sound of life in that period. He is slightly older than me."

Elrohir turned to the wounded warrior and Elladan looked up immediately, as if they shared the same memory. "Really?" The healer looked at his patient's face. "I remember a child called Thavanian, one of Prince Legolas' friends. Is he this captain here?"

"Yes, he is." Legolas said, wondering if he'd been convincing enough, especially when Elrohir's eyes lit on him again.

"Are you a friend of the prince as well?"

"Me?"

"Yes."

"No," he was quick to respond. "I mean... I am not such a friend as Thavanian is."

Elrohir smiled, turning again to the elf that was being cared for by his twin.

"I hope he gets better soon, so we can speak with him about Legolas. We greatly appreciate your prince, soldier."

"I am... I am glad to know it," Legolas forced himself to say. He wanted to not be assaulted by such doubt in this situation. He was not a good liar and was starting to feel badly for speaking falsely to these two warriors, who had been in his mind and heart for so long. It would be so much easier if he fully believed the things his friends had told him about them during his entire childhood. It would be easier to hate the twins for leaving him alone and never coming back as they had promised they would.

It would be easier… but he just couldn't do either thing.

Elrohir was thoughtful for some time, but then sighed and shook his head slightly, as if trying to free himself from something that bothered him.

"And you? What is your name?" He looked again to the prince with a polite smile.

"I am just a soldier, sir," Legolas said, lowering his face.

Elrohir drew closer, placing a friendly hand on Legolas' shoulder, but a strange feeling came over him when the elf's body tensed at his mere touch.

"It is all right," he gently said, giving Legolas a slight shake. "I see that you are a cautious warrior. It is probably part of your skill as a soldier and what made you a victorious today."

"I fell no victory..." Legolas said without thinking. He looked away, feeling his eyes burn. He inhaled deeply after that, trying to control himself. _The war never ends_… These were his father's words and now Legolas was more than convinced he was right. But it seemed to him that the worst battles were the ones you have with yourself. Those were the hardest ones.

"You are standing here, aren't you, while your enemies' bodies lie there lifeless?" he heard Elrohir ask, as he squeezed Legolas' shoulder again. "I have no doubt that I stand before a very brave soldier."

Legolas breathed deeply once more, looking from the corners of his eyes at the dead orcs on one end of the clearing, but then he moved them hesitantly to the row of his dead friends on the other. He knew that image would haunt his nightmares. He clenched his teeth, feeling at a loss for words in this moment. His friends were dead, and now these old friends were here but did not recognize him. Everything led his thoughts in the same direction; he was a lost elf, a mystified soul, who should have stayed in his room as his father always thought would be the better course. _Elbereth, _why wasn't he lying there in the dirt? Why wasn't he dead, instead of his friends?

Elrohir sighed, seeming to regret the memories he had unintentionally brought back to the younger elf.

"It was a difficult battle," he said in a grieved voice. "I am very sorry we did not reach you and your friends in time to offer our help."

Legolas was awakened by Elrohir's sad tone.

"The help you are giving us now is priceless, Captain," he said with quick earnestness, looking worriedly at the healer twin, who remained focused on the treatment he was offering to his patient.

Elrohir gazed at Elladan, too, watching his brother as he tended to Thavanian, and then looked back at Legolas, shaking the sad warrior's shoulder again.

"He will be fine. Worry no more. Elladan is one of the best healers in _Imladris_; he is as skilled as our father."

"My brother exaggerates," Elladan replied from where he was crouched. "But he is right to say that your friend will get well, and you do not need to be concerned about him. He only needs some care and plenty of rest."

Legolas nodded his head, but walked away from Elrohir. Being close to these brothers brought him memories he did not want to relive. When the twins did not return after his mother's death, his mind had been filled with anguish and pain. He spent much time wondering what he might have said or done wrong, which could have made them not want to visit him anymore. Meanwhile, his friends kept mocking him, saying Celebrian and her children had never been Legolas' friends, that they had merely been nice to him, because they were diplomats. They'd only come to visit the Queen, but since the Queen was dead, and the king did not waste his time in unproductive meetings, they had no longer any reason or interest in coming to the king's palace.

Those thoughts only brought more confusing feelings back, and he felt the urge to just continue walking until he would be far from this place, far from what had happened, far from his own self. He turned his head a bit and noticed that Elrohir was still looking at him curiously, but worriedly as well. He didn't seem to have recognized him, which was good, but in his face it was as if his suffering heart was crying so loudly that Elrohir could feel it in his own.

"A fire would not be prudent," he heard Elrohir advise, and realized that the twin might really be reading his thoughts. He watched him look alternately at the bodies and then toward the trees, as if coming to agreement with the prince. "If you do not mind, the members of my patrol and I can help you bury your friends. Unfortunately it is all we can do in this particular situation."

_Bury them. Yes, that was the only option. Return the children to their mother, the land._ Legolas mentally repeated the idea, but not even that sweet poetry assuaged the feeling that had grown in his chest. Visualizing throwing his friends into an open ditch, all together, as if they meant nothing, made him raise his hands and cover his face. He held back the sob that wanted to burst out of him. _Ilúvatar_, he'd rather do anything than weep in front of the sons of Lady Celebrian.

A hand was placed on his shoulder again and it startled him.

"You should rest," Elrohir said, feeling the desperation Legolas was having a difficult time hiding now and wanting to offer him some comfort. "You are not alone. We will help you with whatever you need."

Legolas nodded, trying to silence all the emotions inside him. Elrohir put his other hand on the prince's other shoulder and shook him again a little more emphatically.

"You are a brave soldier. You did what you could. I am sure of that," he said, hoping to reinforce his earlier speech, and Legolas moved bright eyes to his face. He seemed so desperate that the twin did not hesitate to ask his next question as if they were old friends. "Tell me what your deepest concern is, besides the obvious. I want to help you. We all want to."

"I…" Legolas felt his mouth go dry. He was so overwhelmed by his feelings that his words seemed to be stuck in his throat. He only set his jaw again, his eyes still locked on Elrohir's.

But Elrohir seemed to have understood him more than Legolas thought would be possible. "Now you must rest," he said, in a gentle tone. "Let us finish this work. You have my word that we will bury your friends with dignity."

Legolas closed his eyes, moved by those words, but swallowed the lump that formed in his throat.

"I am grateful, Captain," he managed to say. "But my rest will only come after theirs has been ensured."

Elrohir could not stop an admiring smile from forming on his lips. He dropped his arms, speechless, and watched the elf move away, walking over the dry leaves of the clearing as he looked for a suitable place for the graves. The dark-haired captain then gestured to his elves, and the group gathered respectfully to help the lone soldier in the difficult mission he seemed determined to do alone.

* * *

**Thanks so much to all kind people who had left a review or sent me a message about this chapter: ****Dreaming2Eternity, Nocx, Seven, Ruby Cloud, Elf With Redbull, Kate, a-mild-looking-sky, Pooch2010, Evereven, KaribookWorm, Lia Whyteleafe, Laureiel, Win Lockwood, shadow, world-classgeek, SilvanShemesh, Salome Maranja, Aerotes, Muse Luthien, Astrid zz, Malleus Beneficarum, Kisekii and BlackMinx17.**** Special thanks to ****Certh ****for her opinion. And thanks so much to the ones who added my story as well. Hope I haven't forgotten anyone. I would love to know your opinion about chapter 2 as well.**

**Many, many, many, many thanks to ****Puxinette****, my kind beta.**


	3. STRONG FEELINGS

Disclaimer: The Lord of the Rings and all its characters and sceneries belongs to JRR Tolkien.

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**V – STRONG FEELINGS**

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_I have reasons to miss you,_

_To miss our coexistence in comrades' conversations,_

_The simple shake of hands, not even that, the voice_

_modulating known and banal syllables_

_which were always sure and safe._

_Yes, I miss you._

_Yes, I accuse you because you did_

_What was not foreseen in the laws of friendship and nature_

_You did not even leave us the right to ask_

_why you did it, why you were gone_

**To an absent** **one** - Carlos Drummond de Andrade (a Brazilian writer)

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In a few hours, the dawn came with its colors and sounds. The land had been cleared of bodies—both orc and elven—and it seemed as though no horrendous battle had ever taken place. Elladan approached the group, stopping beside his brother. Elrohir, who had coordinated the efforts during the night, watched in silence while the blond soldier put some stones on the last tomb they'd built, singing a sweet and sad song in the ancient _Silvan_ dialect.

"His tune sounds like the birds singing," commented the younger twin.

"That's true," Elladan said, nodding.

"He worked relentlessly." Elrohir sighed, still looking at the archer, who was kneeling in the dirt. "He has won my admiration."

"And mine," Elladan said. "But my heart hurts so badly for him," he admitted, crossing his arms and inclining his head slightly, as if examining a sad picture, searching for difficult answers. "The greatness of his spirit is visible to the eye and touches the emotions of anyone who would look upon him."

Elrohir forcibly exhaled. He completely agreed with his brother. He wanted to do more, but he did not know how or what.

"I can't even conceive the enormity of his pain…" He looked at his patrol's members, friends of his childhood times. He couldn't imagine the idea of losing any of them. "It must be a terrible feeling… I do wish we could have arrived earlier."

"So do I…" Elladan lowered his eyes.

They stayed there for a while, lost in their own thoughts and fears, until Elrohir started to talk again.

"How's the captain?" he asked.

"The fever has finally broken," Elladan gladly informed him, looking again toward the young blond elf, who was now sitting back on his knees, visibly exhausted. "Thavanian is a _Sindar_. They are very strong elves. I believe that it will not take long until he will be standing."

"So maybe we should try to make this soldier rest now."

Elladan nodded, moving immediately, as if he had just been waiting for his brother's suggestion. He took a few steps and, noticing the blond elf hadn't felt his presence, he knelt quietly beside him.

When he realized he wasn't alone anymore, Legolas immediately wrapped both of his arms around his body. The movement awakened in Elladan an incomprehensible feeling, something that nudged at him gently. But the feeling was gone as quickly as it had come, replaced by another. His presence didn't usually cause unease in people; after all, he was a healer. No one had ever reacted to him in this way before.

"Your friend is recovering well," he said, trying to find good things to comment on. He wanted to say something to cheer the tired soldier. "I think all the risk has gone."

Legolas' light eyes finally landed on him and the blond elf nodded with a sigh. "I owe you," he replied.

"You owe us nothing."

"You have helped us. I could not have done by myself what you and your group helped me to do," Legolas sadly admitted, lowering his head and digging his fingers into the soil beneath him.

Elladan sighed and frowned, watching the soldier's gaze lower, as if he were captivated by the sight of his hands disappearing into the loose earth surrounding him.

"It was the least we could do," he managed to say, still observing the gentle movement of the other elf's fingers as they delved more deeply into the dark soil. The soldier seemed as if he were in deep concentration. Elladan looked toward the grave again, where the last elf of the group had been buried. "We are very sorry for your loss."

"I am grateful to you all," Legolas said, with his eyes still closed. His voice seemed strangely lost, as if he were in some kind of dream.

"You need rest now."

Legolas did not answer nor reopen his eyes. It seemed as if he wanted to be as one with the earth, his hands submerged in the soil. Elladan did not understand why, but the scene gave him chills.

"They are at peace now…" Elladan said. In his mind an idea was starting to tease him. This was a very brave soldier, but it was clear he was having a hard time dealing with the loss of his friends. "I have heard that every great soldier gets a mighty reception in Mandos' Halls. They have died defending their land, and that's an honorable thing."

Legolas sighed again, his lips slightly parted. He continued sitting there with his eyes closed, his hands buried in the soil, the same ground his father defended with all his might, the same earth that now covered his friends' bodies. Underneath him was Ainion's grave. Strange feelings invaded his mind then, as they often did when he was exhausted or injured. Thoughts about how maybe he could also go; now that everything was calm and Thavanian had someone who would help him. He could follow his friends and have this soil covering his body too, as he'd secretly wanted since his mother had gone. _Elbereth_, he wished he had gone with her.

"Our king's land…" he whispered to himself, remembering what the twin has just said. "It covers my friends now… That's the greatest honor."

Elladan took a deep breath, touched by the meaning of those words. But then the soldier's strange attitude made more sense to him than he wanted it to make. He was not just feeling the earth, he was not just wishing his friends a farewell. Worried about that dark idea, Elladan touched the blond elf's shoulder gently, awakening him from the chilling thoughts that might be crossing his mind.

"You did your best," he vehemently said. "Don't think otherwise, please. Your friends have found peace because you were here to give them a place for their bodies to rest, to give them your praises, your songs…"

Legolas pressed his lips together, and his effort not to weep was evident, even though he tried to hide it. He just shook his head slightly and his brilliant blue eyes moved over the ground in front of him.

"I would… I would have followed them…" The truth escaped through the prince's lips, giving Elladan's earlier conjectures a certainty. Legolas noticed his lapse, so he immediately looked at him, pulling his hands out of the loose earth beneath him. "I… I'm sorry… I'm just tired… I…" he stammered, already caught by the wise, gray eyes of the elder son of Lady Celebrian.

Elladan looked at him seriously, his lips drawn tight, but he said nothing. He just raised his hands and took the archer's, holding them between his own.

"They are dirty," Legolas said, surprised, and tried to free them immediately, but the twin was now facing him, his eyes even more serious than before.

"You are feverish. Are you hurt?" he asked, raising his hand and touching Legolas' forehead. The prince tried to flinch away, but Elladan held him by the arm now. "Why are you feverish? What happened? What are you hiding from us?"

"I'm not hiding anything." Legolas went pale, still trying to free himself from Elladan's grip. "Let me go, please."

But Elladan wasn't convinced. "Peace, soldier," he said, still holding Legolas' arm. "I have no intention of hurting you. You can trust me," he added in a tone of frustration. He moved one of his hands to Legolas' shoulder and tried to look at him. The healer inside always felt terribly guilty when he couldn't read someone's suffering or hurt.

"It's nothing. Believe me..." Legolas tried to say, feeling bad with the evident distress he saw in the eyes of the other elf. Elladan barely knew him but seemed really worried about his situation. "Please, my lord. You have already helped me extensively. I am thankful for everything you have done…"

"You would have done the same in our place, I am sure, soldier," Elladan said seriously. "And if you are hurt you must tell me. There is no shame in being wounded. Participating in battles can hit us in ways we do not expect. Our bodies and our spirits suffer. We have to accept help sometimes. It is part of being a good soldier, part of being one of the group."

Legolas slowly stopped fighting, frozen by Elladan's words. The twin, however, didn't release him and the concern, still present in his eyes, slowly broke down Legolas' barriers.

"I ask you to not get me wrong, my lord… I would have told you if I thought I needed help…" Legolas acted as he thought someone in his place would, but his simple answer did not erase even a trace of apprehension from Elladan's face. The twin just clenched his jaw, and his eyes darkened a bit.

"You are feverish," he repeated. "You need help. You and your captain are considered part of our group until you are able to follow your own path again. So I am your healer now."

Legolas nodded quietly. "I meant no offence, my lord…" he said.

"Elladan. My name is Elladan. I am not offended. I just want to know what happened."

Legolas dropped his eyes, exhaling as he relaxed his shoulders. It was hard to find a plausible justification about something when his mind was so tired and confused. He was feeling like a victim of a hurricane, battered from being tossed about by heavy winds. Having finished his obligations to his lost friends hadn't brought him the peace he wanted and needed.

Elladan noticed his discomfort.

"Tell me," he said, back to his patient tone. "Let me help you. That's why I am part of this group. That's my role."

Legolas grimaced. He closed his eyes, touched by the sincerity of Elladan's words. He stayed silent for some moments more, then raised his eyes, looking uneasily at the older twin.

"I… was attacked by a spider two days ago," he revealed in a resigned voice, but his body relaxed a bit. Telling the truth was always the best way to take. He wished he could tell the twins everything, but he couldn't. He pulled his arm lightly from Elladan's grasp and the other elf finally gave him his freedom, but he still could feel the healer's eyes on him.

"A spider?" Elladan frowned.

"Yes… These creatures have a kind of… venom… I am more _sensitive_ to it than most elves are," Legolas said, trying to explain, understanding Elladan's tone of doubt. Spiders are mortal creatures, but the only power of their venom was of stunning or paralyzing its victims. With him, unfortunately, the story was a bit different. "At least that is what the healer in my land used to say… I know it sounds strange… But it takes me just a little longer to recover than others who are stung…"

"Wait a moment! Was it the brown spider you told me of?" Elladan asked in a surprised voice.

"Yes... These brown ones are the least likely to attack… But we met it as it defended its offspring, so it was more aggressive than they usually are… But the bite is not serious, sir."

"They tend to be shy, but when stirred they turn extremely aggressive. And I have heard that they do have a very lethal venom,"

"I am sure I killed it before it had injected its entire dose into me," Legolas said, but the mere mention of the dark event made his hand move instinctively toward his abdomen, as if protecting it, an action which was immediately noted by Elladan's skilled eyes.

"But you were its target," he said, bending and trying to open the soldier's tunic. "That fact is enough to make the spider release more of its venom, not less. Let me see."

Legolas flinched away again and Elrohir, who had gone to answer the call of one of his guards, came back, finally noting that something was going on between his brother and the _Silvan_ soldier.

"What's wrong, Elladan?" he asked.

"This soldier was bitten by a brown spider. Tell him to let me see the condition of the injury, Elrohir."

The younger twin frowned, alerted by the severity of what he'd just heard. His eyes roamed past the two other elves as he considered his options. Too many things had happened in the tragedy of yesterday, and it made him wonder at the wisdom of forcing the desolate elf to do anything he did not want to do. He'd already suffered too much.

"Tell him, please, Elrohir," Elladan insisted, when his brother was a few steps from him. The twins exchanged an indecipherable look, and then the younger one just nodded, even though he did not seem convinced he should do what Elladan wanted him to do.

"Let us help you, _mellon nîn_," he said then, trying to be gentle. "Elladan will not do you any harm."

Legolas took a deep breath and his shoulders tensed again. This time he did not raise his eyes. It was even worse looking at Elrohir than it had been dealing with Elladan. He had missed them for so long, and this wasn't the best moment to meet them again. His heart was broken and just listening to their voices seemed to drive him to tears. It was hard to control himself.

However, his reaction was so apparent that the brothers looked at each other again.

"We don't mean you any harm, soldier," Elrohir repeated.

"I know, my lord… But it is not necessary that Lord Elladan spend his time on me… I know what to do. This has happened to me before… It happens all the time in this place."

"And what do you have to do?" Elrohir asked, crouching in front of him. The proximity of them made Legolas pale again, feeling like a small animal caught in a trap.

"I have an antidote. We carry it with us…"

"And why haven't you taken it yet?" Elladan asked, surprised.

Legolas breathed deeply, but the answer to that question stayed only in his heart. He had just not taken it yet because he feared the effect it would have on him. He feared to sleep in this dark place, in these dark circumstances. He knew what this kind of sleep would bring to him. But he just couldn't admit that in front of his childhood heroes.

"You are tired, soldier," Elrohir said, reading the blond elf's silence. "And you also need some care. Let my brother help you. There is no shame in that. That's why we are a group. We all help each other," he said, unknowingly making the same point his brother had made earlier.

"I have received enough help today that I no longer know what should shame me and what should not, Captain," Legolas said unhappily, and Elrohir shook his head in disapproval. "But I can also see that everyone, including you, my lord, and your brother, are tired as well. I have the antidote. If I may, I will prepare it and take it. So I can try to find rest in one of my friends there," he said, looking at some of the old intertwined trees which were surrounding them.

Elladan let out a slight sigh of disapproval, but his lips rose in a small smile.

"I appreciate your consideration and respect, soldier," he said, touching Legolas' shoulder again. "But we both know that a healer is unable to rest without the certainty that his skill is no longer needed."

Legolas parted his lips to continue his insistent speech, but then he was suddenly distracted by something. Elladan seemed a bit tired of waiting and had placed his hand exactly over his wound, surprising him with the capacity of his healing power. It had startled Legolas, but then he couldn't help closing his eyes, soaking in the soothing energy emanating from the elf's touch. He knew Elladan was a healer, he could see it in his eyes, in the way all nature around them felt his energy. But he had never felt such energy himself before, not even in Faernestal's hands, the healer in his father's halls, who was known as one of the best in Middle-earth.

Elladan exhaled, silently relieved that the blond elf was willing to be helped. It worried him that he could detect little strength remaining in the soldier's body, and he knew he had to act at once.

"A spider," Legolas repeated with his eyes closed, as if replaying the scene in his mind. "It was defending its offspring."

"Creatures of darkness," an exhausted Elrohir said, sitting beside his brother.

"Evil can seduce some, but transform others in its hands," Legolas sadly added.

"Let me see where the spider wounded you," Elladan said again, leaning closer.

Legolas opened his eyes and swallowed hard. He hedged for a few more moments, but soon realized that the young healer would not change his mind, so he gave up his protesting and loosened the ties of his tunic, avoiding the eyes of the two brothers. Elladan moved closer, gazing at the purplish lines across the prince's abdomen. He didn't like what he saw.

"You will have a fever for a while longer. Unfortunately, that is what is needed," he said, and Legolas shuddered. That was not the best of news, although to the blond archer it seemed to be expected. "You must have the antidote to control it or you will not heal."

"I know..."

"You said you were sensitive to the venom..." Elladan remembered, still concentrating on the signs he could read and feel under his hands now.

"Yes. A little... I mean… I think so. Even after taking the appropriate antidote my body takes longer to heal than most. That is what the healer told me once. But spider attacks, even from the brown ones, are routine in our land, much more frequent than we would like them to be. I know I will be fine."

"Why have you not taken the antidote?" Elladan repeated.

Legolas sighed, moving his eyes to the ground beneath him again.

"Because it puts me into a deep sleep. Not very appropriate to the situation we have been in," Legolas said, even though he knew it was only a half truth. "But there's no hurry. I did not get much poison. Today, if you allow me, I will take it and rest. Hopefully, I will be better tomorrow."

Elladan nodded, still feeling the heat emanating from the blond elf's abdomen.

"If, as you are saying, you have had this antidote before, you are aware that you have to eat something before taking it. The antidote can upset your stomach," he said, but then the healer raised his head and looked the soldier straight in the eyes. "If you eat and get your medicine everything will be fine. You will lie down beside your captain, and I will look after you both in your rest. There will be nothing to worry about."

Legolas parted his lips. To him it seemed as if the older twin had read his thoughts and fears. Could that be possible? He had a moment of hesitation before shaking his head, shifting as if he was about to rise to his feet.

"I do not want to be inflexible, my lord, but I prefer to sleep in one of the friendly trees over there, if you do not mind," he said, looking back toward the dark forest.

"It's not convenient," Elrohir said, opposed to the idea.

"There is no inconvenience in these trees," Legolas whispered, trying now to get up. He was surprised to see how hard it was to get his legs to cooperate with him. "I know them all. We frequently camp here."

"What's your name, soldier?" Elladan finally asked, rising and helping Legolas to stand.

Legolas paled again. He had been worried about this moment, but had fed the weak hope that, if presenting himself as a mere soldier, these lord elves wouldn't need to know who he was. He didn't expect the attention the two brothers were giving to him, when he was only supposed to be just a member of the patrol.

"You can trust us," Elrohir said, and there was a disappointed tone in his voice now. A tone that made Legolas feel ashamed.

"I trust you both, my lords… Forgive me if my actions made you think otherwise."

Elrohir bent his head a little, staring at the blond elf as if analyzing the answer received.

"My name is Elrohir," he said, repeating the information. "This is my brother, Elladan," he placed his hand on his twin's shoulder. "Who are you?"

Legolas looked at him, and what little remained of his courage made him do something he hated doing, but had done a lot of during his childhood. He just lied.

"My name is... Ainion," he answered, deciding to use the name of his friend, the only one in whose place he thought he fit. Ainion was the only Silvan elf in his group, but Legolas also felt that he was a Silvan elf, or half-Silvan, as people used to say. He just didn't feel the part of his blood that had his father's ascendants' characteristics, his Sindar blood. No, he would never feel like a Sindar elf. He was part of the forest. He was Silvan, as his mother was.

In front of him the twin brothers looked quickly at each other, and Legolas worried about their attitude. But then Elladan dropped his shoulders, approaching him again and taking hold of his right arm.

"So dine with us, Ainion," Elladan proposed with a sad smile, giving to Legolas that sensation of being read again. "And we will talk about where you will sleep later. I want you to take the antidote with a full stomach and as soon as possible. The medicine is too strong to take without eating first," he finished, slowly pulling the prince toward the campfire. Legolas stumbled at first, and each of the brothers took a side of the archer to help him make his way to the fire.

"I am fine," Legolas quickly said, trying to move away, but the twins would not allow it. "I'm… really tired, my lords. I don't believe I can eat anything right now."

"We are not your lords, Ainion," Elrohir said in a warning tone. "But if my brother told you, as a healer, that you have to eat something, that is exactly what you are going to do. You are in my group now, and I am a very austere leader."

Elladan could not contain his smile, as he helped the young warrior to sit near the fire, beside Thavanian. He recognized an old game Elrohir used to play. It was one of Elrohir's masks, which he used with skill. Elladan knew his twin very well and, despite the sad and delicate situation, he was happy to see him doing something he hadn't done for a long time; provoking someone just to turn the situation into something lighter.

"One thing is true, Ainion," Elladan said with his characteristic laugh, sitting down beside Legolas. "Elrohir likes everything to be done his way." He seemed to find pleasure in being a part of his brother's wiles. "And most people are usually happy to do everything possible in aiding him in doing that."

Legolas smiled gently and his eyes followed the sound of Elrohir's voice as he talked with his friends by the fire. He couldn't avoid remembering the elf knight's telling him stories when he was a child. The more time he spent with them now, the harder it was to keep himself from unveiling his identity to them. How had this happened? He'd covered so much territory, had seen many elves, yet here of all places he'd met Lady Celebrian's sons…

Elrohir came to sit with Elladan and Legolas as his brother completed his thought, saying that in fact the group always did everything the way the captain approved of, except for the food, of course. He promptly punched his twin in the left arm.

"Ouch!" Elladan complained, rubbing the soreness away. "But it is fact. Tell the truth to this soldier, Captain," the eldest brother kept on, needling his twin a bit more. "If the food was to Elrohir's liking we would not have passed many ages with our stomachs intact. He likes for his food to emulate the life he lives. He likes it very spicy."

"That's not true," protested the other twin. "The cook of our group is just an incapable amateur. He makes a broth that has absolutely no taste."

Legolas couldn't hide the smile that crept to his lips when he heard the bickering between the two brothers, which was something they used to do when he was a child just to make him laugh. That good memory and the laughter at this present scene attenuated the bitter feeling that was in his heart in a way he wouldn't have expected. He dropped his head and his smile faded, but he dared to keep that feeling inside him, even knowing he shouldn't.

"Try and draw your own conclusions, Ainion," Elladan proposed, taking advantage of the light moment and looking at the elves around the campfire. "Elrohir, get us a little food, _toron_."

"I bet it is not ready yet," the younger twin said, standing up and moving away while still muttering things about the cook's inabilities. Legolas followed his movement, watching him approach the rest of the group, baiting his soldiers and making them laugh. Elladan was smiling as well, awaiting his twin's return. At least the magic that colored the friendship of Celebrian's children with such beautiful colors and sensations was still there. That was Legolas' thought, when he closed his eyes as if to keep that feeling alive inside him. Those were the first moments of happiness that had touched him in a long time. He breathed deeply and relaxed his shoulders, finally forgetting to lift his tired eyelids. The remembrance of the twins in his painting resurfaced, mixed with scenes of the near and distant past. They were all falling, just like petals drifting in the wind. He also felt as if he were falling, like a dry autumn leaf.

"What happened to him?" He suddenly heard Elrohir's voice, sounding vague and distressed.

"It seems that the amount of poison was not as insignificant as our soldier tried to make us believe," Elladan replied in an even more anguished tone, and Legolas felt the twin's palm on his face. "The fever has worsened. It heats him too much now."

"Do something, Dan!"

"Hold him for me."

Elrohir's arms were around him then, and Legolas could hear the rapid beating of the younger twin's heart. In the past, when they played together, and Elrohir chased him through some of the smaller corridors of his father's halls, even knowing the Queen and Lady Celebrian would not approve of it, Legolas could hear the heartbeat of the twin. He had discovered then that hearts also beat fast because of joy, not just great fear. But now Elrohir feared for him, even without knowing his true identity. How could he hate him? Legolas wondered. He had never really been able to do that and he found that he still couldn't do it.

"It is ready," came Elladan's anxious voice.

"Is it strong enough? Does it have everything he needs?" Elrohir asked nervously.

"Trust me," the twin said firmly, and Legolas felt a hand lift his head. "Ainion, you have to drink this tea. Wake up, please."

The twin's tone was so urgent that he knew he had to obey, but he was tired and felt so cold. The images of the fateful battle were now merging with others in a whirlwind which made him feel dizzy.

"Wake up, Ainion. Come on. Help us!" Legolas heard, and then he felt a mug touch his lips and a bitter liquid run down his throat. He accepted what was offered, recognizing the taste of the antidote he used to take, mixed with some other herbs.

Reality then faded into darkness.

* * *

Legolas woke gradually and blinked a few times. A beam of sunlight hit him directly in the eyes, coming through the leaves and branches above him, making him cover his face with both hands. What place was this? He tried to remember where he was and what had happened. All too quickly the experiences of the past few hours inundated him like a sudden dipping into a cold running stream. Confused and distorted images came to him; images that he wished he had not remembered.

His hands scrubbed at his face in an attempt to help banish these thoughts. The best thing to do was the hard task of ignoring them, at least for now. He had other things to worry about. The twins... How much should he tell them? How much should he trust them? He needed some answers to these important questions.

He looked at the world around him. There was clarity in the branches above. Sunlight came from the treetops. The height of the brightness indicated that more than half of the day had already passed. He just needed to know half of which day.

"Shhh. Slow down," the voice of one of the twins warned him, when he started to get up on one elbow. A hand gently forced him to lie down again. "You will not be able to walk in the woods for a while."

"Walk in the woods?" Legolas asked in confusion, and only then realized that his throat was dry and, as a result, he had virtually no voice.

"Has he woken up, Elrohir?" the other twin asked, and he suddenly appeared beside his brother.

"It seems so, _toron_. At least he understood my words. I think the delirium must have passed."

"Delirium?" Legolas tried to sit again and Elladan moved to help him. He sat behind the prince, holding him in his arms to let him lean against his chest.

"Now he will improve even more." There was a satisfied tone in the healer's voice. He took his water skin and offered it to his patient. Legolas gladly accepted, quickly downing its contents.

"Slowly," Elrohir advised. "You have not put anything into your stomach since yesterday."

"Have I been sleeping since then?" Legolas asked incredulously. "Have I slept an entire night?"

"I would not say that," the elf behind him commented dryly. "The fever has not given you peace. Few were your moments of rest. You need to sleep a while longer."

Legolas looked around, confused. The camp was still intact, the fire burned at its center and around it some soldiers were sitting. They sang melodies in a very quiet tone. Legolas searched around him for a few more moments and found the one he sought. His bodyguard was still where he had been placed, with some blankets covering him. He seemed to sleep deeply with his eyes closed.

"Thavanian..." he said in a worried tone as he tried to stand. Elladan helped him carefully, but soon Legolas realized he was not really prepared for such a movement.

"Your captain is better, Ainion," Elrohir assured. His left hand was on Legolas' leg. "You have to rest as my brother has advised you to do."

"I have been sleeping since yesterday, if I have understood what you said," lamented the blond elf. His eyes were still focused on the pale face of his wounded friend.

"You have not really slept, soldier," Elladan said. He moved then from behind Legolas and forced him to lie down again.

"But I feel better," protested the prince.

"Yet you are not recovered. The fever overtook you; your body has had no rest."

"That's true," Elrohir said as he nodded. "You even escaped from us once and disappeared into the woods during one of our moments of distraction. I have never seen anyone do that before."

Legolas' eyes rounded and the twins could not hide slight smiles.

"You are mocking me, I see." The prince didn't believe them.

"Not really," Elrohir assured him, a little hesitantly. He looked at his brother and bit his lip, visibly trying not to laugh this time.

"You got up and walked through the woods," Elladan explained, but the elder twin seemed as amused as his brother.

"What did I do?"

"You did nothing special, just walked and said things that we could not understand," Elrohir added, still trying his best to hide a smile. "Probably you spoke the language of your ancestors. Do your people communicate with some special dialect in the dark woods?"

Legolas frowned. He followed the other elves' tale with all the attention he could spend, but still did not understand very well what had actually happened.

"Are you telling me that I got up, left here and began to wander through the forest?"

The prince's questions were the last straw, and the brothers started laughing then. Legolas was lost, looking alternately at each twin without understanding.

"You looked like one of those wandering souls the _Edain_ talk about time and again." Elladan shook his head. "Especially with the stars to encourage the natural brightness of your body."

"Wandering souls?" Legolas asked blankly. He was not very familiar with the traditions and beliefs of the Númenor descendants.

"Ghosts. Spirits who wander and haunt," Elrohir explained, and when he laughed with more intensity Legolas finally blushed. He still did not understand what he had done, but the twins' expressions made it clear that it must have been something amusing.

"Have I done something for which I should feel ashamed?" he asked, afraid. "Or did I just walk through the forest?"

Elladan and Elrohir exchanged indecipherable looks and then the younger twin lifted both eyebrows.

"Well," he said, holding back his laughter now. "You merely walked among the trees without any bad intention, by our perception. It was as if you looked for someone... But..."

"But?"

Elrohir lowered his head, covering his lips to hide the smile that wanted to return to them and said, "If you will check your condition beneath these covers, you may comprehend..."

Legolas' gaze became lost again while he was trying to understand what he had heard. He then moved his eyes to his still sore body and finally understood what had awakened the brothers' laughter.

"_Ilúvatar_," exclaimed the young elf who blushed terribly. He closed his eyes tightly and frowned in utter embarrassment.

The twins could not help themselves when they started laughing again.

"Forgive us, Ainion," Elladan said, the first to catch his breath. "I had to undress you, because the sweating from the fever flooded your clothes."

Legolas did not answer, his face covered with both hands. He just shook his head miserably. _Elbereth_, whatever else he had done, he hoped to continue not remembering it.

"Come on, come on," Elrohir said, pulling at the prince's hands. The situation did not seem so funny anymore. "It was not that bad. Now we are laughing, but yesterday we were very concerned. All of us were."

Legolas turned his face away and closed his eyes again. Thanks to _Ilúvatar_ the twins did not know his identity. What they'd just told him about was, beyond doubt, not the impression of himself he wanted to leave in the memories of these mighty warriors.

Elladan chuckled again and then shook his head. He waved to one of the elves near the fire, who seemed have understood the message, filling a bowl with the food that was on the grate and bringing it to them.

"Now you eat," Elladan said as he passed the bowl to Elrohir to hold. "We will aid you." He helped Legolas sit again and returned to his place behind the prince, letting him lean against him once more.

Legolas frowned at the smell of the food. He was sure it was good, but his stomach did not seem prepared to receive anything.

"What?" Elrohir came closer, with a sly smile, and lifted a full spoon. "It is not bad. You provided us with enough orc meat to make soup for weeks."

Then, the grimace the prince had been trying to hide came to him so immediately that he felt the muscles of his face ache. He moved his head and realized that he had no control over his stomach anymore.

The worst part of it all, however, was that he felt that it was not the first time.

Elrohir laughed musically.

"Do not be so cruel, _toron_," Elladan reproved him. "His stomach is not in good condition."

"Obviously! He threw up his guts all of yesterday and into today. It is almost unbelievable he still can speak."

"Elrohir!" Elladan said, finally fuming. He took the bowl from his brother's hands in a decided movement. "Go find something to do. I know you do not like to take care of the wounded ones, but you do not need to leave them in worse condition than they already are."

The younger twin only smiled. He did not seem worried by his brother's words. He just twisted his head so that Legolas could see him.

"I am merely repaying the favor," he said, with an ironic, almost cruel look. That was one of Elrohir's masks Legolas knew very well. The younger twin, better than anybody, had the ability to confuse or humiliate a person till they felt the most complete embarrassment. He did that often, for a lot of different reasons.

And he enjoyed doing it very much.

"What… What do you mean?" Legolas dared to ask, even though he knew he would deeply regret the question.

"You really do not remember, do you?" asked the dark-haired elf with a theatrical arrogance that the prince knew well. When Elrohir was trying to have some fun by embarrassing someone, there was no chance his victim would escape it. "I could not eat yesterday because of you."

Legolas' brow furrowed with that fragmented piece of information. But then the smell of the food displeased his stomach again, and he finally concluded why the sons of Celebrian perhaps had had problems eating. He was even more ashamed and he was sure his face reflected that. He had obviously done more embarrassing things than walk naked under the stars.

"I… I am sorry," he managed to say. "Fever transforms us into repulsive beings."

Elladan offered his brother a reproachful look, which Elrohir simply ignored. He just stared at the still embarrassed blond elf.

"Funny beings, you surely meant," the younger twin corrected then. "It is true that you threw up your guts yesterday," he said with a nod, and Elladan clicked his tongue in indignation. "But it was not the misadventures of your stomach that kept me from eating. It was your walk through the forest. You disappeared and we all had to go out looking for you. And the stupid cook left the dinner on the fire for too long, and we had to eat berries until daylight, when we could finally see to hunt."

Legolas parted his lips, feeling his jaw drop slowly. Then he blushed again. _Valar_, he would never be able to erase the image of himself that he had inadvertently offered to the entire group.

"I ask... for you to forgive me, my lords..." he said miserably, and cursed himself for not finding something less inane to say. Foolish elf; he seemed condemned to live his entire life between mistakes and apologies.

"I have already forgiven you," Elrohir replied with an ironic smile of someone who did not seem really bothered. To finish the subject, he took back the bowl from Elladan's hands, lifting another spoonful. "I only forgive someone after I have gotten my revenge. Get used to it now and eat. You are lucky the clumsy cook did not burn everything as he did before."

Legolas looked at the food but then his stomach was nauseated again.

"Is there meat in this soup, my lord?" he asked cautiously.

"I am not your lord. Call me by my name, Ainion. And I told you I was joking with you. There is no orc meat in this food."

"But is there any meat?" Legolas insisted, stretching his neck slightly to try to see what was actually in the bowl.

"Why do you want to know?"

"I do not eat meat, Lord Elrohir. I apologize if I seem ungrateful."

"You are not serious, are you?"

"Yes. If there is some meat in it, I will thank you, but deny your goodwill. I may ask about some of the berries you mentioned before."

Elrohir shook his head and put aside the bowl. Elladan smiled calmly.

"The _Silvan_ elves are not vegetarians, are they, Ainion?" he asked.

"No, Lord Elladan."

"Neither is the royal family…"

"No, sir."

"So why have you adopted so strange a menu, if it is not in the tradition of your people, nor the people of your king?"

"I do not follow traditions, Lord Elladan," Legolas replied with a lost look of one who is not surprised by the question. "I just do what I think is good for me, if it will not dishonor me."

The older twin smiled, raising his eyebrows significantly at his brother, who now looked the patient over, his chin up. He knew Elrohir was staging one of his captain moments, a lesson well learned from their mentor Glorfindel.

"Give him some travel bread, _toron_," he suggested then, and the twin nodded, stretching out and searching through a nearby backpack beside the campfire. In moments, he took out some pieces of bread wrapped in very green leaves.

"This you eat, I hope," Elrohir joked, passing the bread to the prince's hands. Legolas nodded and thanked him, then he broke off a piece and put it in his mouth.

"Is Thavanian really well, my lord?" he asked, and Elladan moved his always attentive eyes to the patient.

"He is," he said with an exhausted but satisfied sigh. "He recovers at an enviable speed. Your commander is a strong soldier."

"Yes, he is," Legolas agreed thoughtfully. He set the bread aside after eating only two bites. The concern, however, was not gone from his face. "I think I have not... thanked you both properly."

"You do not need to," Elrohir stated, shaking his head.

"I do need to." Legolas lowered his eyes, trying hard not to get carried away by the same sadness he'd felt the day before. "If you had not come, I do not know what..."

"Ainion." Elladan caught his attention with a serious, but understanding tone. He lamented the pain he still felt in his patient, but wisely wanted to end this matter for the moment. "Do not think about yesterday. Not until you are recovered."

Legolas nodded silently. "But there is still today," he said, raising his eyes again. "And I feel that you are stuck here because of Thavanian and me. I am sorry for that."

"You would have done the same if the situation were reversed, I am sure," Elrohir said, quite seriously too, and Legolas could not help but wonder about the thousand faces of this elf.

"I am grateful anyway. I hope we are not causing a great inconvenience, besides my shameful wanderings through the dark forest," Legolas said, embarrassed, and the twins smiled, making the prince feel a bit better.

"Nothing unsolvable," the younger twin finally said.

"If you help me to build a talan and lend me provisions, I can stay here with my friend until he gets better, and then you may continue on your way. I promise to send repayment as soon as we return to the king's halls."

"You speak folly," Elrohir said.

"In fact, we mean to return to our land," Elladan explained. "Our plan is to wait until tomorrow, when I believe your captain may be transported. We will make a stretcher and by the full moon we will be in Rivendell, where Thavanian should recover more effectively."

Legolas paled. "Do you suggest we cross the river?"

"Yes. We do it frequently."

"I cannot. I... cannot leave the woods."

"Why?" Elrohir asked, puzzled. "We have met _Silvan_ elves like you before on the other side of it. Have you ever crossed by the Old Ford, by the Forest Road? It is still a safe path. We simply must be careful in the High Pass. There are still some orcs who insist on staying in that region, much as we try to show them that it is a big mistake. Stupid creatures."

"There are few of them there," Elladan said, while he helped Legolas to lay down again, when he realized the soldier had no intention of eating any more. "I dream of the day when there are none."

"We will make your dream come true, _toron_. And it will not take that long. Our hunts always have good results."

Legolas looked from one twin to the other now.

"Do you hunt orcs?" he asked.

"Always," Elrohir confirmed with a deep breath.

"Do you leave home only for this?"

"Does that surprise you?"

"Yes... Were you not diplomats and merchants, who usually crossed the land in search of knowledge and agreements for your city?"

"How do you know that?" Elrohir asked, his face suddenly serious.

Legolas shrugged uncertainly, hoping to cover his mistake in asking this question. He knew Elrohir well enough to realize that he wasn't wearing one of his masks now. He was really intrigued by what he'd heard.

"I... I remember... Thavanian once commented about you..." Legolas tried to think quickly, hoping he would be convincing enough.

But Elrohir's eyebrows rose immediately. "Oh yes!" he said, seeming to have accepted Legolas' impulsive explanation. "We always had a story of our travels to tell the prince."

"True. And Legolas must have retold all of them." Elladan smiled.

"And certainly added great achievements to them."

"No doubt." Elladan laughed. "He considered us the best warriors of Middle-earth."

"Yes, he did."

"Why didn't you ever come back again?"

Legolas felt the question slip from his mouth before he could stop it. He was not sure if this was the right moment to ask it, but he could no longer hold it back, and the opportunity, even though risky, had suddenly presented itself.

Elladan and Elrohir went quiet and the cheer immediately left them. A pallor overtook their faces, and, even though they had not looked at each other, they appeared to share the same bitter thoughts. Legolas frowned. Rare were the times he had seen them sad or distressed. He immediately regretted his words.

"Please; please forgive my prying, my lords. Your lives are not my concern." It was all that surprise enabled him to say, though his heart was even more despaired by the response he knew he would not now receive.

Elladan sighed then and looked toward the distant trees, a dark and confusing tangle that seemed to reflect the thoughts of Celebrian's firstborn.

"After all this time, these forests still have a certain magic," he said in a nostalgic tone, and Legolas realized that he proposed to escape the subject.

"Indeed." Elrohir stretched his legs out and leaned back, supporting himself with both palms on the ground behind him. He threw his head back with a long, loud sigh. "I am homesick."

"How long have you been away?"

"Not long," Elladan said, already aware of his brother's signs of tiredness. He knew him better than anyone. He acted upon his conclusion and pulled at his twin gently. Elrohir gave up, lying down and resting his head on his brother's lap.

"Two seasons," he said, closing his eyes to accept what was offered him.

"It is nice to go home." Legolas rose on one elbow to look at Elrohir. The elf captain probably had not slept for days and the fatigue seemed a punishment. "I see you are very tired," he said. "If I may, I can stay near my captain and look after his sleep, so you both can have some rest."

"Our rest only comes when we are at home," Elrohir said, his eyes still closed. "Sleeping under the grace of our good father."

The prince looked down and a character from the books he had read formed in his mind: the half-elven lord – one of the mighty rulers of old that remained in Middle-earth in the Third Age. He had never seen him. He wondered what he would look like.

"Lord Elrond Peredhel," he remembered.

"Do you know him?" Elrohir opened his eyes.

"No. Only the fame that illuminates his path. And that is enough to make me admire him."

"Your king and he did not get along very well," the younger twin mentioned, and Elladan poked him in the same instant. The harsh truth was the structure of all of Elrohir's speech, and he never seemed to mind telling it.

"They have their reasons," Legolas said, and in truth he was not offended. "Reasons older than me and even both of you, too."

Elrohir raised his eyebrows and Elladan just smiled.

"You are very wise for someone so young, Ainion," said the older twin.

The prince blushed slightly, lowering his face.

"But the Lady of Imladris and the queen were friends…," he said shyly, and the twins' faces lost their brightness once more. Legolas was filled with regret again, but he didn't know why the twins had reacted this way. He could not tolerate the doubt their behavior caused him. The twins' reaction was making his mind insist on considering the unbearable idea that Celebrian might have had the same destiny as that of his own mother.

"Forgive me, but..."

The two identical elves fixed their darkened eyes on him, but Legolas swallowed his doubts and fears. He just hoped he was not arousing their suspicions too much in his search for the truth.

"I know it does not concern me..." he began again in a soft voice, turning away from the inquisitive eyes that stared at him. "But Lady Celebrian was a presence that only brought happiness to our Queen… To us all... So I cannot stop wondering how she is... even knowing I should not ask… and..."

"Our mother is waiting for us in Valinor," Elladan replied tersely, as fast as someone might who wanted to see a subject closed immediately.

Legolas almost sighed with this news, nearly unable to contain himself, while a mixture of relief and sadness invaded him. This was only half the story, he knew, only a fragment of it, a story with no beginning or end. But Celebrian's light was still shining and, somehow, that was a consolation.

Elladan noticed the strange reaction of the elf.

"Ainion? Are you all right?" he asked. "You've gone pale again."

"Yes..." The prince mumbled and rubbed his face to try to erase the signs that had been caught by the healer. "I... I am sorry for... for that… How... long has she been gone?"

Elladan and Elrohir frowned and tilted their heads slightly. They gave Legolas a suspicious look that made him realize he needed to offer an explanation for his insistent questions. The twins had good hearts, but were also known for their extreme discretion about their own lives.

"Our Queen has left us... left us in a sad way," Legolas said, deciding to open his heart, to expose a wound which was not yet healed. It was hard to speak of this, but it might be the only way to ease the distrust he saw in the twins' eyes. He felt so tired of offering lies; he wanted to give his friends an answer, a very truthful one. "She… went a different way... but... I think that… the sense of loss... Our feelings are… are similar… I... Our people… We miss... We miss her very much."

He wanted to continue, but realized that he would not be as able to speak on that subject as he needed to be. Just mentioning what happened, even without the details of the darkness, made his body grow cold in the desire to denounce all his lies, to tell them the truth about everything.

"We are sorry for your loss," Elladan and Elrohir said in unison, seeming to get the answers they needed to put Legolas at his ease.

"Losing the Lady of Imladris' friendly presence was a great pain for our people," Elladan admitted. "But we all would agree that the way your queen had to choose… The path she had to take was unique. We are very sorry."

Legolas closed his eyes and felt his body calm completely. For so many years he'd wanted to hear this. Every spring he waited for them to appear, to offer him this kind of support, to get this sort of consolation, from the ones he loved so much. But that day never came. Yet strangely, the brothers' words had had in his heart the same effect they would have produced in his childhood, had they returned to give them, and the prince realized that even with all the inconsistencies, all the questions, he still loved these two warriors with all of his heart.

Elrohir reached out and touched the blond elf's hand. Their eyes met again and Legolas noticed him furrow his brow slightly as if seeking a particular piece of information. But soon he just sighed and his face was sad again.

"Our mother..." he said then. "She loved Lady Elvéwen as if she were her own sister..."

"That's why she... she never returned? Because our Queen died... and she..."

"She felt embarrassed," Elladan explained patiently, seeming not to understand the prince's insinuations. "We wanted to come back, even with the absence of Lady Elvéwen. Because we loved Prince Legolas. He was special in our hearts... But King Thranduil did not answer our letters... Not even the messages of our birds. We believed then that we were no longer welcome... Our mother was not offended. She just said that the king was acting this way because he needed to have a place to hide himself; he needed a place where he would be able to suffer unseen and without fear of recrimination... So we waited, hoping time would not erase our friendship... But we never met either the king or his son again."

Legolas heard the story in silence, a huge lump in his throat, tying his words in knots that he couldn't express, but an old and grievous sadness slowly started to disappear from his chest. He realized then that the things that people had told him when he was an elfling were untruths… The twins had not forgotten him… He was important to his friends… They were not angry or disappointed with him… He had not done anything wrong… They just… They… They had not felt as if they could come back…

"Then Lady Celebrian had gone..." Legolas said with a sad tone. "And there was no reason for you to return to the Forest anymore…"

"Legolas is an adult now," Elrohir pointed out, closing his eyes with a resigned sigh. "An adult who surely would not even remember us, or, if he does, he probably hates us."

"No. He does not hate you!" Legolas said without thinking, and Elrohir, who was now propped up on one elbow, looked directly at him. Legolas then turned pale again. Elladan crept closer to him, making him lie down to ease his apparent weakness.

"You are too tired, Ainion. You must rest. That's what I advise you to do and what I will see done."

Legolas obeyed while Elladan pulled aside the blanket that covered him to check the purple lines that were still on his abdomen. The healer placed a hand over them and was frustrated to notice the fever had returned.

"I am just sensitive to the venom," Legolas said again and looked away, as one who regrets or apologizes. "The fever will cheat you many times, Lord Elladan. But you will see that it has not come back so strongly this time."

The twin clicked his tongue, getting up in a decided movement to fetch some herbs from his bag. Then he put them into a mug of water on the fire.

"These spiders are another wild race that should be extinct," he complained, stirring the leaves in the mug with a spoon.

"The Forest, unfortunately, is their territory too; I should have been more careful," Legolas said as he explained the incident. "But I confess that I cannot feel sympathy for them."

"The forest should not be the territory of such awful creatures," Elladan answered distractedly, while he continued at his task.

Elrohir, however, seemed not to have paid attention to the conversation of the two elves. He still had not clarified a doubt in his mind. He crept close to the prince, looking into his eyes.

"Why do you think Legolas does not hate us?" he asked, and in his eyes the prince saw so much pain that the truth almost escaped from his mouth.

"Because..." Legolas said, and then paused, tied now by the untruths he had told and still troubled somewhat by the old doubts he had. "He does not hate anyone..."

The twin's disappointment was visible in his face. That was obviously not the answer he wanted to hear.

"Tell me about him," Elrohir said then, and his eyes lowered and focused on the grass surrounding him.

"What do you want to know, my lord?"

"I am not your lord, Ainion," Elrohir said, then sighed heavily. "Stop calling me so, you silly elf."

There was no way that nickname, which was a common treatment the twin had used to provoke Legolas when he was a child, passed unnoticed by the prince. Legolas clenched his jaw and his eyes were teary. Elrohir looked at him with concern and grabbed one of his arms, tightening his jaw after feeling that it was hot again.

"The fever has returned."

"Do not worry, my lord. I will be fine," Legolas assured him. He closed his eyes, suddenly no longer able to face the twins.

Elrohir, however, did not seem willing to let his instructions be forgotten.

"Ainion," he said, and Legolas was forced to reopen his eyes. "Call me only Elrohir. We are friends."

And never, never in his life had Legolas wanted so much to be exactly where he was at this moment, even after everything he had been through. He never felt so confused, but nor had he felt such hope of ridding himself of certain grievances that he'd carried for a very long time.

"Call me Elrohir." The twin repeated as he smiled. He had noticed the surprising emotion his invitation aroused in the strange elf. His heart was starting to admire Ainion without any special reason for doing so. He just did not want to see him sad again. "Call me Elrohir, silly elf."

Legolas took a deep breath.

"Elrohir," he said, and then he surrendered to his feelings, the tears starting to fall from his eyes. He did not want to lie; he did not want to lose his past. He was so afraid all those misunderstandings were crystallized to the point that there was no turning back. He looked away and pulled the arm that the twin had been holding out of his grasp, and then covered his face with both hands.

"Elladan," Elrohir called to his brother, worried. "Do something for him. He suffers again."

"It is ready," Elladan said, kneeling carefully and lifting Legolas' head. "Come on, Ainion, be a good patient and take this medication."

Legolas uncovered his face and held the mug with both hands, drinking the tea in small doses. Whatever it was that Elladan wanted to give him, he was willing to accept because he knew that was the wisest attitude to take. A high fever could always put him at risk, and he was not referring only to his tendency toward strange walking in the forest.

"I know the taste is not the best," Elladan said, laying the patient's head down again and covering him. "I made it a little stronger this time, and I added other herbs. The fever is not going to punish you as badly as before, or I will lose the title of healer I have."

"I am grateful, Lord Elladan," Legolas replied, turning his head a little on the blanket that was his pillow.

"Just Elladan," the older twin corrected. "My opinion is no different from my brother's."

Legolas sighed. "Elladan," he finally repeated and closed his eyes.

* * *

I'd like to thanks** Emily, Elf With Redbull,** **Nocx, SparkyTAS, Pooch2010, BlackMinx17, KaribookWorm, Reader, Evereven (aka Puxinette), Lia Whyteleafe, a-mild-looking-sky, DreamingIn2Eternity, SivanShemesh, HelloDenmark, Laureiel, Win Lockwood and a "guest" **for their reviews. Your comments were really important to me. I am glad you are still enjoying the story.

And my special thanks to my wonderful and patient beta **Puxinette**; without her, I am nobody.


	4. UNCERTAINTY - PART 1

Disclaimer: The Lord of the Rings and all its characters and sceneries belongs to JRR Tolkien.

_**IV – UNCERTAINTY – Part I**_

"_When dealing with critics always remember this: Critics judge things based on what is outside of their content of understanding." _

_**Shannon L. Alder**_

For Legolas, the length of time between closing and reopening his eyes had been very short.

"He will wake up soon," he heard one of the twins say.

"But he is all right, isn't he?" Thavanian then asked.

"Yes, he is. The fever has already broken; in fact, it was not so high this time. But I gave him a sedative along with the latest medication so that he would sleep. He was exhausted."

"He is a very stubborn elf. Occasionally I am forced to use this kind of trickery to make him get some rest. Hopefully he will never know that."

The twin laughed. "I see that our captains do not have as much authority as they think they should," he joked, and Legolas heard the purposefully exaggerated sound of disappointment in the twin's voice. Now the archer knew exactly which twin this was.

"Of course we do not!" Elrohir complained. "Though I have no problem getting my instructions followed," he added in an arrogant tone.

"I know, I know..." Elladan admitted, intentionally humoring him. "But tell me, Captain Thavanian, how do you feel now that you are awake?"

Legolas noticed the deep silence that came instead of his friend's answer. That alerted the prince to the state of utter incomprehension Thavanian was probably in. He forced himself to open his eyes, before his bodyguard caused his badly balanced mountain of lies to come down.

"Captain Thavanian," he called, trying to rise, and Elladan quickly went to him.

"Stay where you are, Ainion," he commanded, but Legolas did not obey. His worried blue eyes were already on his bodyguard.

Thavanian first frowned, not completely understanding what was happening. He had just woken up after the nightmare they had lived together, and it was taking him some time to try to see in the archer's blue eyes exactly what Legolas might have told these elves. Thavanian kept staring into his friend's pale face, searching for an answer, slowly becoming aware that he needed to proceed with caution until he could confer with his Prince.

Legolas dropped his shoulders, relieved when he noticed Thavanian's face relax a bit. He was lucky his childhood friend knew him well. He sighed, then looked at Elladan. "How is he, please?" he asked.

"He recovers well," the healer replied, offering him a cup of water. Legolas took it and drank it slowly. "And you, how do you feel, _mellon nîn_?"

Legolas paused for a moment with the cup a few inches from his mouth. The fact that the twins were being so kind only made things more difficult. A strong voice inside him was desperately saying that he could not continue with this farce. His heart echoed that feeling, almost begging him to find a way to reveal the truth to them.

"I am well, thank you," he said, forcing the words out of his mouth, his eyes still fixed on the cup in his hands. He then looked briefly at Elladan, trying to analyze the reaction his words were having.

"Really?" The elder twin had suspicious eyes on him. "Tell me the truth."

"That is the truth," Legolas immediately said, finally looking straight at him. "I do feel well… I…" He thought quickly of something distracting to say. "I just want to bathe."

Elladan chuckled, a gentle smile appearing on his lips.

"I am sorry," he said. "but you still cannot do that. The nearest river is at least a day from here. We need to cross the marshes first. For now I will get you some cleaning oils and fresh clothes. You must wait for us to reach a safer place, and then you may do what you will."

"But Thavanian is conscious now. We do not need to go with you."

"Do not be stubborn, Ainion. You must come with us. You and your captain cannot risk trying to make it all the way back to your king's halls on your own."

"But…"

"We cannot allow it, Ainion. You will come to Imladris and my father will provide an escort for you both when you are ready to return to your land. This will be no problem to any of us. You will see."

Legolas scowled, and then moved his eyes to Thavanian, who had closely followed the older twin's arguments.

"Anyway, it is not you who gets to make that decision, elf," Elrohir teased, looking firmly at Thavanian this time. "Not now that your captain is awake."

Thavanian looked at him, puzzled, but as soon as he understood the younger twin's insinuation he went pale.

"I... I..." he stammered, totally caught by surprise. Even understanding what was going on and knowing exactly what he should do, he was not sure how far to carry his role in the prince's hoax.

"Do you believe, Captain, that the safe return of two wounded soldiers all the way back to your king's palace is possible?" Elrohir asked emphatically.

"I... I think it would be a... difficult task, Captain Elrohir," said the bodyguard, looking at the prince and dealing with all his mixed feelings. "However our patrol's range stops on this side of the river. We cannot cross it, no matter what situation we are in."

"That's absurd. You will have an escort, and besides, you have no choice."

"We can stay here until Ainion and I feel better and are recovered. We will be safe. We know this place well. Your group can go on, and..."

"Ah, I see you are even more stubborn than your soldier, Captain Thavanian," Elladan said, growing upset. He was extremely tired of dealing with this subject. "But you should know that we are taking you with us, whether you appreciate the idea or not. It is in my oath as a healer to never leave a patient without proper treatment."

"And you have done all that you should, Lord Elladan. We are grateful."

"I have not," the twin disagreed. "And I do not see how remaining here, even if I could stay to help, would aid the two of you enough that you could actually recover the strength you need for such a long journey."

"Even if you could," Elrohir said, "a group of only two members crossing the forest, even well-armed, is foolish." He turned his gaze directly to Thavanian then. "Your King must understand."

"My King has nothing to understand," Thavanian said then, suddenly fuming and feeling trapped. "He cares about nothing that goes on outside the boundaries of his lands. He gave us orders, and I will see them fulfilled."

"Then you will come with us in an unconscious state." Elladan shook his head, not moved in the slightest by Thavanian's bluster. Damn _Sindar_ elves, more stubborn than mules, and to complicate the situation even more, with an incomprehensible devotion to an authoritarian king. "We have no intention of going deeper into Thranduil's lands, and I refuse to have your deaths on my conscience by allowing you to go alone."

"Captain Thavanian," Legolas said tentatively, interrupting the argument. The three elves looked at him. "We passed through a hard experience. I understand you don't want to give the King any other reason to be upset. But I am sure he will understand that, after all this esteemed healer has done to us, it would be an insult to disregard his opinion. We were both in great need, and he saw us through our injuries. Why could you not send a message to our kingdom when we arrive in Imladris, and then explain the situation to the king as soon as we get back to his halls?"

In thanks he received a very unhappy glare from his bodyguard. "We cannot do that, Ainion."

"I am sure he will understand the situation and why you chose as you did, as soon as you explain what happened..."

"Ainion…"

"You are hurt, my Captain… The King would not like to know that one of his best leaders risked himself just to see one of his edicts fulfilled…"

Thavanian frowned deeply, not satisfied with the turn in the conversation. "It is my duty, Ainion. You know that. We must not leave our land."

"You cannot return to your king's halls unless you are alive and recovered," Elladan said, making use of Legolas' support, introducing himself again into the conversation.

Thavanian started to protest again, but then he was caught by the prince's darkened look. They stared at each other for a moment, until the bodyguard lost the rest of his will to complain. He knew what was happening; Legolas wanted to go on with this madness more than anything else. He was willing to risk his father's rage for the chance to leave the forest, to see the scenery that he had only visited in his dreams.

They had finally crossed the river and the Marsh and had continued to the Old Ford, in the direction of the High Pass, where they intended to camp. For the first days, Thavanian had been carried by stretcher, but this morning he had been well enough to sit a horse on his own. He was traveling now beside Elladan, since the older twin had insisted that he stay near him, where he could monitor his patient's condition.

Legolas rode alone, but the twin kept him in sight, always following him with a wary eye for signs of trouble.

"He seems very impressed," Elladan told his companion, noting the way Legolas looked all around, admiring things from small flowers to the broad blue sky above.

Thavanian, who was delighted by the same image, smiled. For so long he had waited for an opportunity to show his friend the diverse nature on the other side of Mirkwood's borders, he'd just had no courage so far to disobey the king's commands in order to do it. He was happy that this sad event had at least given Legolas an opportunity to live an experience different from any he had ever lived before.

Even though he understood the king's purpose in protecting the prince, he'd always felt sorry for Legolas. He knew his friend's good heart and how hard it was to convince him that people didn't always have good intentions. To the blond archer, orcs were his enemies, other people were not. But Thavanian always thought his friend would only learn the truth about Middle Earth's different peoples by having good and bad experiences with them, but something stronger seemed to keep his father in disagreement, something Thavanian never understood and, as a mere soldier, never questioned.

"Hasn't he ever been here before?" Elladan asked. The elder twin was still looking at the prince with curiosity.

"He was raised in the forest," the bodyguard replied. "He does not know many things beyond the dark green of Mirkwood. We don't go out frequently."

"But you have come to this side of the borders before, haven't you?"

"A few times… When I've gone down the river… I have crossed the borders, but have never gone far into territory not held by my King."

"What about Ainion?"

"Never."

Elladan frowned.

"Why? Aren't you both the same age?"

"Not exactly. But I am only a few summers older."

"Yet you have had experiences that he hasn't had…"

"Yes…" Thavanian tried not to show hesitation, but some things are very complicated to explain. "I have been a soldier for a longer period of time… So he hasn't had the opportunity to have this experience yet. Besides, as I told you, our King's decisions about his patrol's range have changed over the last several years."

Elladan stayed quiet for some time, thinking about that information. He wished he didn't understand the Elven King's feelings and strategies, but he did. Even his father was controlling and calculating his patrols' directions and positions more attentively than he had in prior years. He sighed, feeling the distress of that thought, but then his eyes once more met the image of the blond archer, a few steps ahead, looking at the landscape around him as if none of Elladan's fears and elements of discomfort really mattered. Elladan didn't know why, but that image brought him comfort.

"He's very clever nonetheless," he remarked, returning the small shy smile that Legolas gave him when he felt observed. "He does not look like a simple peasant."

"He's had a good education."

"What is his origin?"

"_Silvan_."

Elladan raised both eyebrows. "A pure one? Were all his ancestors _Silvan_?"

"Of course," Thavanian said, biting his lip nervously. Everyone knew the only Sindar elf to join a Silvan lady was the Elven King, so he could not allow the twin to question Legolas' origin.

"Really?" Elladan asked, surprised. He looked again at the blond elf on the other horse. His instincts told him otherwise, but a reason didn't seem to exist for thinking that way. "I don't know why… But I thought he was half-blood. There is something about him that..."

"He is _Silvan_," Thavanian rapidly insisted, clenching his jaw. "We do not mix our races as your Noldor people do."

Elladan frowned at the sudden abruptness of the _Sindar_ Captain.

"Your King has taken a _Silvan_ lady-elf as a wife," he felt compelled to say.

"That was for political reasons. Our King was a leader to Sinda and Silvan elves. This was the best way to unite them. It was a wise strategy," Thavanian replied, hoping that his comment would never reach the prince's ears. In fact, not even he believed what he had said, but he had to defend his argument as best he could.

Elladan's jaw dropped in outrage. He'd met Mirkwood's royal couple in the past. He knew them, especially the lovely queen, and never had such a thought occurred to him when he was in their presence. What the Sindar captain was saying did not please him. He didn't utter a word, however, believing that diplomacy was the best weapon in moments like these. He had learned from his father that, on some occasions in life, good diplomacy was expressed only as a total absence of words.

Thavanian, noting the tension, regretted the tone he had used. "Some matters are delicate ones," he said, trying to diffuse the situation. "Please do not take my devotion personally."

"I understand," Elladan said, sighing patiently. "I am sorry for the subject I have brought to our conversation. I had no idea it would be something which would offend you in any way."

"No... The fact is that... that ..."

"Do not worry, I insist," Elladan said, cutting the conversation short, looking at the sky above. Arguing with the captain didn't seem to be a good idea. There was no reason he could think of for doing so and, unlike his impulsive brother, he did not like entering into any conflict without a good reason for it.

"I am sorry, anyway," the blonde elf emphasized.

"Do not be."

Silence.

"I hope we reach the Pass before nightfall," said the twin, trying to help his patient stay calm and to keep him from coming to conclusions that were untrue. He wanted peace with the captain of the Forest.

"Are you sure it is a good place to camp?" Thavanian inquired, looking around in concern.

"It's a place known to us and where we are known. I do not believe an orc group would dare to tread there."

"That's good," Thavanian said, responding with a nod to the greeting he received from Elrohir as he rode up. The dark-haired twin slowed his horse and positioned himself next to Elladan.

"Would you help me with some news, Captain Thavanian?" he asked.

"Certainly. In what can I be a good informant, Captain Elrohir?"

"I wonder how the prince is."

Thavanian looked slightly toward Legolas, who had joined a scout riding near him, quickening the pace of his animal when he noted Elladan's distraction. He continued looking at everything around him.

"He is fine," Thavanian answered with a small smile at seeing the scout pointing at something and Legolas following the direction, also pointing and asking new questions. He knew the prince well and understood that there was much more beyond pure excitement involved in such behavior. Although some Sinda elves in Thranduil's kingdom did not put faith in their mixed blood prince, Legolas would be a war leader, like his father.

"But how is he?" Elrohir asked once more, bringing the attention back to his question.

Thavanian was lost in thought, seeing Legolas interested and happy about something for the first time in centuries. But as he looked again at Elrohir, his mind was suddenly flooded with terrible images from the past, interrupting the good thoughts he'd been dwelling on before.

"How do you think he is, Captain?" He looked Elrohir in the eyes, feeling anger slowly overtaking his heart. Why was this elf, who had disappeared during the worst moments of Legolas' life, raising these apparently innocent questions, the bodyguard thought indignantly. He himself felt hurt because of what the twins' absence had done to his friend's childhood.

Elrohir frowned. "I think he is a strong and powerful prince; as strong as Thranduil for sure. He had tremendous power emanating from him, even when he was an elfling. Today he should be much loved by his people," he said in a fast sequence of ideas. It was clear that he had not liked the tone of the other elf's question.

"Were you offended by something, Captain?" Thavanian asked then in an  
ironic tone.

"Should I be?" Elrohir asked as well. "Was it your intention to offend me?"

"What do you think?"

"I do not know what to think, Captain," Elrohir said sincerely. He turned his gaze back to the trail. "You are a childhood friend of Legolas. I do not know what he said or what kinds of feelings he has for us. But, whatever his feelings are, I think he and only he might have reason to feel them, and nobody else should feel them for him."

"Elrohir, I think it is time to take the lead again," Elladan advised, feeling the growing tension between the two elves. Knowing his brother's warrior spirit as he did was enough to move the elder twin to intervene. "If you would follow Ainion for me? That stubborn elf has disobeyed me and is far from my sight."

Elrohir kept his darkened eyes on Thavanian, who returned his glare with equal intensity. "If I ask about him, it's because I wish him well," he finally said.

"With all respect, Captain," Thavanian said between his teeth, "neither you nor your brother acted like people who wished the prince well."

"You don't know what happened," Elrohir said, raising his voice.

"I don't have any interest in knowing it." The volume of Thavanian's voice rose just as Elrohir's had. "But what I know is enough for me. I know that an elfling, who was already suffering, suffered even more," he said, and Elrohir grew pale. "I know Legolas lived years without speaking to anyone, without leaving his room, even at the request of his father. Those are the _happenings_ I do know of."

"He had lost his mother. You twist the facts to blame us."

"Do not play this game with me, _Captain_ Elrohir. You know very well what happened, don't you? You know what Queen Elvéwen did. Did it not cross your mind what Legolas has thought of himself since then? Can't you see the fact that your family's sudden disappearance made things worse than they already were? If you cannot see the truth in front of your arrogant nose, it just proves the theory that I already have: You _Noldor_ only think of yourselves. Even those who are not pure _Noldor_. My King is right."

"What's wrong?" Legolas asked. Even as far ahead as he'd been, he'd heard raised voices and had ridden up to the two warring elves before Elrohir, whose face had reddened with anger, had been able to defend himself against Thavanian's accusations.

"Come here, Ainion," Thavanian said, gesturing to him and moving away from Elladan. Legolas, confused, obeyed, but was even more puzzled when his bodyguard leapt to the back of his horse, even against his protests. When Thavanian's hands were settled on the prince's waist, he nudged the animal away from the _Imladris_ siblings.

"Thavanian, what's wrong?" Legolas asked, craning his neck to look back at his friend. "You should not be exceeding yourself as you are.

"I said I was better," the _Sindar_ said, making a face, visibly pained by the movement he had undertaken.

Legolas was still confused, so he looked in the twins' direction to try to discover any information, but they seemed to be having a serious talk now.

"What happened?" he finally asked, but when his friend held on and rested his forehead against Legolas' back, he thought it might not be the best time to ask such a question. "At least let me take you in front of me. It is not safe for you to ride this way. You may fall."

"I will be well… Let's just continue this ill-conceived journey and hope our King does not deal with us too harshly."

Legolas moved his eyes to the twins once more. "What did they say to upset you, Thavanian?" he asked. The twins were known for their diplomacy, and he had never imagined either of them, not even Elrohir, who had an acid temper at times, being really rude or impolite with someone. What he had just seen didn't make any sense.

"Silence, Legolas," Thavanian said with bitterness, showing clearly he had no desire to speak about the subject anymore.

Legolas frowned at his friend's rudeness, but didn't say a thing, thinking that discomfort or pain might be motivating it. But his bodyguard's next sentence threw him into utter incomprehension.

"And do not reveal your identity to these _Noldor_."

"What?"

"Do not tell them who you are."

"Why?" he asked, incredulous.

"You know why. You understand me. Obey your father's rules."

Legolas felt a strange tightness in his chest, a fleeting feeling that his friendship with Thavanian might be nearing its conclusion. Even as he put aside that traitorous thought, he couldn't shake the idea that he still needed to understand the twins' reasons more deeply for not returning to Mirkwood. He knew what they'd told him, but was that the entire truth? In order for him to learn once and for all what had happened, the first thing he would have to do would be to admit who he was.

"I know the rules, Thavanian. But I can't follow them right now. I need to know what happened."

"You don't need to know anything about these Noldor, Legolas," the other replied, trembling a little, as if feeling some pain. "You suffered enough because of them in the past. Follow your father's rules strictly. We are already in a dangerous position because we cannot go home. Your father will be enraged enough with what we have done. Don't give him more reasons to punish you."

Legolas took a deep breath, understanding what his friend was saying, but still upset with the situation in which they found themselves.

"Elladan and Elrohir are good people…" he said quietly, as if he were speaking to himself and not Thavanian at all. "I have known them since childhood and..."

"You knew them when you were a child. And even when you thought they were good people, they still did not keep their word to you. You have been hurt by them once. Do not open your heart to be hurt anymore."

Legolas looked at the two brothers again, his friend's words feeling like a knife to the heart. When Elrohir looked in his direction, he looked away. "They are good people..." he repeated sadly. "I know that…"

Thavanian sighed deeply. "You always think the best of people. That's why the elflings had such fun at your expense when we were children."

Legolas dropped his eyes, avoiding the image his friend was trying to get him to recall. Thavanian moved a bit closer, placing his chin on the prince's shoulder.

"Promise me, _mellon nîn_," he said in a low voice.

"I can't..." Legolas whispered. "I have to give them a chance… I… I still love them…"

"Excellent!" Thavanian's mood changed drastically with that confession. "I see you are looking for trouble. I won't stand with you. Keep that in mind."

Legolas shook his head. "You speak as if I were going to start a war…"

"Because you are! You are going to incur your father's wrath, and put me between the two of you at the same time."

"Thavanian…"

"Listen to what I say, Legolas, and listen carefully. If you reveal your identity to these Noldor, when we get back I will tell your father every wrong decision you made during this journey."

"What do you mean?"

"You know what I mean. I will tell him all the rules you disobeyed and he will see that revealing your identity to strangers was not the worst of your transgressions."

"Elladan and Elrohir are not strangers."

"They are. And you are going to open your heart to them," Thavanian reminded him, looking quickly in the twins' direction. When he heard Legolas' sigh of frustration he continued. "You are going to exchange what you have for a useless hope, Legolas. You are stuck in an image of them you created when you were a child. But you are not a child anymore, you do not need any heroes… and even so, that is not what they are. Far from that. You know what they did."

"You don't know their reasons…"

"And do you?"

"They told me. They told me why they never came back to our realm."

"And you believed them? As you believed when they promised you they would come back the following Spring when you were an elfling?" he asked with no mercy, and when Legolas' body tensed, he held the archer's arm firmly. "They are not reliable. They are not. Trust me, Legolas. Trust your childhood friend. Do as I say. Follow your father's instructions or the only reward you will have will be the king's disappointment, nothing more, nothing else.

Legolas clenched his jaw, sadness overtaking him again, hardening his face.

"Disappointing him is something I have known how to do since I was a baby…" he said to himself again, holding firmly to his horse's mane.

Thavanian made a sound of irritation. "Then you are giving me no choice, Legolas. You are forcing me to do exactly as I said I would do. And you will have no right to blame me for my actions."

"And what exactly do you plan on doing?"

"I will tell your father you took the path he told you not to take."

"Alagos told me it was a safer path."

"You had your orders. And the king's orders were for you, not for Alagos," Thavanian said, repeating a phrase Thranduil frequently used, and just hearing it made Legolas feel as if he were in his father's presence, something that only Thavanian was able to do. Sometimes Legolas thought that his bodyguard's capacity for repeating literally and very convincingly the king's words is what made Thranduil give the soldier the position as Legolas' bodyguard in the first place.

"That was a different situation," Legolas said, trying to defend himself. "You know that. We had problems to solve and the north trail was shorter. Alagos is a reliable person, Thavanian. He is also our childhood friend."

"Alagos had passed through the north way some weeks ago. He couldn't be sure they had killed every evil animal there. You should have followed the king's order and continued on the path he set for us. But you always seem to trust everyone but your father."

Legolas parted his lips in surprise. Thavanian had the undisguised habit of defending the king under any circumstances, but he had never imagined he would insinuate what he was insinuating now.

"It would have taken two weeks more and we had two very injured soldiers, Thavanian. I am sure you remember that."

"Now we don't have any soldiers, Legolas. Is that the better way?"

If all the conversation he'd been having with his bodyguard had been a disgusting surprise to Legolas, Thavanian's final words were the last thing he would have expected to hear from his friend. Legolas had no answer to them. He was shaken by the memory that truth had brought back, and even if anything had come to mind in defense of himself, he wouldn't have been able to say it. His eyes stayed riveted to the trail in front of him and he said nothing. In the distance, he could see that the sun was saying its brief farewell to the world, marking the sky in shades of red, making the ground look gold. Red and gold, Legolas thought, again seeing the blood of his companions staining the ground, remembering his hopes, his decisions, his mistakes.

He remained silent then, lost in thought, lost in the truth. Maybe Thavanian was right. Maybe it would be better if Elladan and Elrohir never knew who he was, the kind of person he'd grown up to be, the bad leader he had become.

They had crossed the river, the Swamps and the Ford, and soon they would be in Rivendell. During the next three days few words were exchanged between the Elves of Imladris and Mirkwood. Legolas sometimes looked at the twins from afar, knowing he was being watched by Thavanian, who continued to share a horse with the prince. Occasionally Elladan approached and asked them how they were feeling and Legolas thanked him, saying they were fine. Thavanian, however, decided not to talk at all to either of the twins. Legolas was silent the rest of the time, even when it was only he and his bodyguard.

"You are angry with the wrong person," Thavanian finally complained, after another day without words from the prince, the third one in a row. "I am not the one to punish. It's not fair and you know it very well."

Legolas did not answer; he just started stroking the mane of the animal on which they rode. This attitude was very well known by his bodyguard; the young prince used to do this very thing as a child, when he was extremely unhappy.

"You know I am right," he insisted uncomfortably. His archer friend's ability to spend days without saying a word would never stop surprising him.

And Legolas continued to efficiently demonstrate this ability.

"I cannot believe it. Are you going to deny me even a single word?"

"I do not want to discuss it, Thavanian," Legolas finally answered, but did not turn to face his friend behind him. "Leave me alone, please."

"It is not exactly what it seems," the other elf commented ruefully. "You know your silence toward me is more than an incentive for me to begin any discussion. I can't tolerate it when you do that."

Legolas took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. He was so tired of discussing. In fact he had spent the last three days doing just that, discussing with himself everything that had happened so far and everything that was going to happen next. The last thing he wanted to do now was give his bodyguard an opportunity to repeat what he had already been saying to himself.

"You are playing the victim again," Thavanian replied, not feeling intimidated by the rigidness he could feel in the body in front of him. He preferred to goad his friend until he said what was on his mind, rather than deal with his silence one more day. "You prefer doing this instead of using your time to analyze what I said. If you thought about it at all, you would see that I am right."

"If I thought about it at all…" Legolas repeated between his teeth. He had been thinking about it thousands of times. Sindar elves. Despite living in the Silvan Forest, everything around him was done under the blessed Sindar authority. His father, his healer, his bodyguard. They were all Sindar elves. The Silvan elves used to attribute two adjectives to them: Arrogance and egocentrism. He didn't like the idea, nor had he agreed with it the first times he heard it, but now he was inclined to accept it as a cruel and naked truth. "Leave me alone, Thavanian," he repeated.

"How can I leave you alone? This silence of yours does not guarantee that you will do what is right."

"You have little faith in me. You have already told me what would happen if I won't follow your rules, so all I can do is follow them. Just do not ask me to appreciate the situation you have put me in."

"You follow your father's instructions, not mine."

"My father's _instructions_ are for outsiders, not for Elladan and Elrohir."

"I never heard your father make such a distinction. The king's instructions were for everyone, outsiders or not. After all, if they do not recognize you, then how can you call them friends?"

Legolas closed his eyes, biting his lip hard to contain the anger that those words, so close to the truth, incited in him.

"They saved our lives." That was the only way he was able to respond and the phrase came out almost like a whisper.

Thavanian felt, in the sadness of Legolas' voice, how his words were hurting the prince. He regretted having to play such a bitter role. Being Legolas' bodyguard was not always the best of occupations.

"_You_ have saved our lives, Las," he said in a gentle tone now, seeking a way to make his friend open his heart to him again. "They only came later. As you have told me, the fight was over when their patrol arrived. You had already killed the remaining orcs and were just dealing with the aftermath. All they did was show up and keep us from returning home."

Legolas parted his lips and a sound of indignation came through them. "Ingratitude is not your style, Thavanian," he said severely. "Elladan looked after us. He is still watching over us, even after the ill temper you have been treating him to. I had a fever every night, but he always had a gentle word for me in the morning, and I gave him much trouble."

"We would have managed in some way. You know we have already been in similar situations."

Legolas snorted, lacing his fingers more securely through the soft mane of the spotted horse on which he rode. The animal shook its head in protest and the prince immediately eased his hold and caressed its sleek neck in regret.

"You get on my nerves. That is what you do," he lamented to himself, though he addressed his complaints to the elf behind him.

"As soon as we get to Imladris, we will accept their blessed escort and return home. The king will not appreciate anything we are doing," Thavanian said, ignoring what he had heard.

The prince snorted a second time, imagining now the impatient image of his father casting him a look he knew well. _Ilúvatar_. Would he ever have peace?

"It seems that, in his opinion, the world never has any unexpected events," he quietly complained.

"And it doesn't have. Not your father's world. Our leader always acts with precision and caution." This time Thavanian decided not to pretend he had not heard his friend's words. He loved Legolas like a brother, but his devotion to the king was deeper than any other feeling he had. "And you know it. That is why he is so severe with us. Do you think a patrol led by him would have found itself in the situation ours was in?"

Legolas swallowed hard, closing his eyes as if his bodyguard had stabbed him. It was the second time in less than three days that Thavanian had made such an insinuation. An unpalatable truth slipped down his throat again, flooding his body with a feeling that he always seemed destined to feel. Three days and he still felt the same. Three days and he felt even more guilty. Three days and he still felt like following his dear friends, who had gone to Mandos' Halls. He felt his face burn and his eyes watered. Three days and that clouded image he sought to forget, but he knew he could not, continued appearing before him: The desolate row of dead bodies, which was gradually covered by the mother earth.

"It was my fault… I know…" He finally verbalized the idea that was inside his heart and he thought it would be in his friend's as well.

Thavanian was surprised by what he heard, but the prince's tone worried him immediately.

"Legolas..."

"Please…I know I don't deserve it, but give me a moment of peace," Legolas implored, interrupting his friend's regretful voice behind him. He knew the words that would come were not what he needed to hear. He did not want any balm for his pain; he did not want to hear lies. He knew what had happened and whose responsibility it was. He had to accept what he had done—and so did Thavanian.

So before Thavanian could complete his sentence, the archer threw his leg over the horse and dropped to the ground. His friend looked at him, puzzled, before realizing how far he had gone in his reproachful speech. The bodyguard was so full of mixed feelings about everything that had been happening that he had so far ignored the fact that wishing someone well did not imply he could do or say anything he wanted to convince this person about what was right and what was not.

"Legol ... Ainion! What are you doing?" Thavanian asked aloud, very worried, when he saw the prince walk away from the horse.

"Stretching my legs," Legolas replied coldly, accelerating the pace toward the horses that went before him.

"What silliness!" protested the other. "Come back!"

"The march is so slow here that I can walk a little and save our friend from carrying both of us," Legolas answered, trying to disguise his tone of frustration, before passing between two other horses that had been in front of him.

Thavanian opened his mouth to protest again, but there was no more time for that. Legolas had disappeared from his vision, walking to the front of the group. The bodyguard frowned unhappily, worried about the situation in which he'd been left. He knew he had already pushed his friend too hard and for too long, and Legolas was searching for some time and space to think about their talk as he usually did in times of trouble. But this wasn't the best moment or place for him to be doing this. He could only hope that nothing worse happened.

The twins were now riding side by side, watching the sun, which was hidden behind the small mountain range through which they still had to pass. Elladan moved uncomfortably, pulling the sides of his cloak together to protect himself from the encroaching chill.

"Perhaps we should camp in the nearby clearing," he advised. "The evening promises to be colder than the day was."

"That seems a fine idea to me," Elrohir agreed. "I would like to rest a bit before getting home. I always throw myself into bed and sleep two days when I get there, and in the end I wake up very sorry I have done that."

Elladan laughed then, remembering that his brother's words were the truth and that Elrohir only woke up after much insistence. He thought of repeating the same old recriminations, but his attention was attracted by the fast walking of the archer from Mirkwood. In his decided and rapid pace he seemed intent on leaving the path they were on and disappearing into the woods.

"Ainion," he called, and Legolas slowed slightly, without raising his head to look at him. Elladan watched as the other elf rubbed his face quickly, though he walked more slowly now. He seemed very upset. "Where are you going so fast? What happened to your horse?"

"Nothing, my lord," he answered, and the brothers looked at each other unhappily. "I just felt like walking a little. The pace is slow and I can give some rest to the mount you were so generous in providing me. It has been carrying two elves for three days."

"Nonsense. You are not heavy at all," Elladan replied, his reproach immediate. "You should not be walking."

"I feel fine, my lord, though I appreciate your concern."

"We are not your lords, Ainion," Elrohir said, riding forward, spurring his horse to catch up to the elf. "Come ride with me then."

"No, thank you, my lord. I want to walk."

"I'm not your lord, Ainion," the younger twin said again, letting some anger steal into his tone as he put his leg over the animal he was riding and slid to the ground beside the blond elf. "When are you going to call me by my name?"

"When I know who you are," Legolas replied bitterly. "I cannot distinguish you from your brother and neither of you seem to make any effort to help anyone in that regard."

Elrohir frowned, glancing at his twin who also seemed baffled by Legolas' revelation.

"What happened that took your peace and manners, _mellon nîn_?" the young healer asked, as he also slid down from his horse and stood on the other side of the blond elf.

Legolas bowed his head and accelerated the pace, but Elrohir leaned one hand on his shoulder to discourage him.

"I ask you to forgive me," the archer said immediately, but his shoulders were rigid. "I had no intention of being disrespectful to you, my lords."

Elladan moved his eyes to meet his brother's again and then he looked at the stiff figure that walked beside them.

"What happened? Tell us, Ainion," he insisted, resting a hand on the young elf's other shoulder and squeezing it slightly. "Are you sure you're feeling well? You know you must tell me if you are suffering any discomfort. The fever has passed, but this poison can still leave effects for some days."

"I'm fine, my lord. Do not worry about me," Legolas replied promptly, without even looking at the elf who was talking to him.

"Elladan," the twin said in a patient tone. "I'm Elladan. Now that you can distinguish me from my brother can you treat us by using our names, Ainion?"

"Yes, my lord," the archer said instinctively. Then he shook his head as if confused and corrected himself. "Yes, Lord Elladan."

"Just Elladan, Ainion," the twin said, shaking the elf's shoulder again, bowing slightly so he could better see his patient's face.

"Forgive me..." Legolas sighed then, turning away from the inquisitive look he received. He was angry and needed to try to disguise it. Thavanian was right. They had not even recognized him. Certainly they imagined the child Legolas had been, as an elf now who was as strong and powerful as his father. Certainly the twins had imagined him like all the Sindar lords of his father's realm also wanted him to be. He sighed loudly without thinking, remembering the many looks those friends of the king threw at him every time he committed the terrible mistake of entering the meeting room without first asking his father whether he was alone or not. _Ilúvatar_, he was undoubtedly the biggest disappointment to his people. It probably explained why the _El_ had not been able to recognize him as the king's son too.

Elrohir shook Legolas' shoulder then. The brothers seemed preoccupied with him and that only irritated Legolas more. Why did they have to seem so noble and kind? So efficient and benevolent? Why couldn't they arouse the same anger in him that he felt for those Sindar lords, friends of the king?

"So Ainion," Elrohir said, trying to catch his attention. "What are your feelings about the nature here on this side of the river? Thavanian told Elladan that you had never left the Dark Forest."

Legolas pursed his lips in frustration. For a person who did not like the twins his bodyguard had had a chance to reveal to them exactly the last thing he wanted them to know. Surely that was the reason for both of these elves from Imladris to deal with him with so much care; certainly they thought he was like a child who had just left his father's safe keeping.

"You seem really sad today, mellon nîn. Why don't you share with us what bothers you?" Elladan offered, trying again to see his face, to read the lines sketched by the sadness, to make use of his entire role as a healer.

_Elbereth_, Celebrian's eldest son certainly could perform such a role! Legolas thought, lowering his face in embarrassment. He felt as if he were an open book and that worried him. The wise and skillful twin was indeed frighteningly efficient.

"Are you worried?" Elrohir risked asking. "Are you worried because your group suffered such a cruel attack? Worried about how the king's opinion might have changed for your captain?"

Legolas looked him straight in the eye, and then Elrohir felt a little embarrassed, which was not unusual for him, but even with everything the younger twin had alluded to with his questions, he still didn't look away from the archer.

"We know that your king is ... hard on the soldiers who serve him," he explained then.

"He needs to be, Lord Elrohir. You know where we live and what we face," Legolas said, finding himself defending his father, as he always did. He would defend him in any circumstance, even against himself.

"I do not blame him," Elrohir agreed, after a grimace of displeasure at hearing the young elf call him lord again. "Your king is not on trial here. Who are we to make such a judgment? We just want to know what bothers you."

"Nothing bothers me. I just want to walk." Legolas lowered his face and sighed heavily, trying to get free of any sentiment that was choking him, whether it be good or bad. "I'm a wild Silvan elf visiting new territories," he finally said, and his voice sounded different from the one he had used; it had a tone reminiscent of despair.

Elladan frowned immediately and Elrohir put himself in front of Legolas, walking backwards now.

"Wild? How so? Is that what you believe we think of you, Ainion?"

Legolas shrugged. "You can think that if you want to, my lords," he replied, swallowing the agony that seemed stuck in his throat. "I don't mind. I am used to it. It's what everyone thinks. I do not care anymore."

"What?" Elrohir stopped, stupefied, almost pale at those words, and his movement stopped the archer as well. "Do you face prejudice in your own land? Where almost everyone is Silvan, as you are?"

Legolas closed his eyes and he felt his blood boil in his veins like never before. _Ilúvatar_, he had never been so angry and confused. What was happening to him? He felt torn. Not just divided, he actually felt broken. Now, in front of his childhood heroes, he realized he could not endure to be who he was, not able to show one good thing about himself.

Elrohir leaned both hands on Legolas' shoulders then, and the younger elf felt worse than the most despicable of creatures. He knew now that the twin felt sorry for him. What could be worse? How could he lift his head again with the weight he had on his shoulders?

"Please, forgive me." He moved his eyes away, praying to the _Valar_ that the two brothers would just leave him alone. The last thing he wanted was to have another shameful moment to remember and regret later. "I'm talking too much. Talking about matters that I should not," he said in a tone of relief, gently disengaging himself from the twin's grasp. He moved around Elrohir to keep walking.

"Ainion," Elladan said as he allowed him to pass, but he kept himself even with the other elf. "You can trust us. We just want to help you."

Legolas closed his eyes. "You've already helped me…" he said, and the images of the twins dealing with him in his childhood, their stories, their games, came to him as a bittersweet memory. He raised watery eyes to them and realized that, if he didn't do something right now, he would not be able to resist revealing who he was to them. So he moved away quickly, without giving the dark-haired elves another chance to stop him. "Please, forget about me, I beg you. Do not ask me anything. I'm just a servant of the king, one who has not learned where his place is."

The brothers looked at each other, speechless, and then watched as the figure moved quickly away from them. It was obvious that Legolas was very upset. His pace was firm and steady, even as his feet tread the ground comprised of stone and dust. Elrohir moved to follow him, but Elladan held his arm with a negative shake of his head.

"Leave him for a moment…" he said, and his twin obeyed. Something Elrohir had learned since he was a child was to accept Elladan's advice about people's feelings. His twin always knew, better than anyone, the right moment to speak, as well as the right moment to keep quiet in a delicate situation.

"Poor soul," Elrohir said, shaking his head and raising his arm, signaling for his horse to return to him. "He seems to be living in a world much different than the one in which we live."

Elladan looked at the archer for a few moments and then did the same, in silence.

"He suffers too much," Elrohir said, putting a hand against his chest and rubbing it slowly as if to assuage some kind of pain, not a physical one, but one brought on by emotion.

"Maybe he's still shaken by what happened," Elladan said finally, offering an opinion that he thought wise, even though he felt the existence of something bleak in the blond elf's history. "Think about it; his entire group perished, their captain seems severe and King Thranduil is not the most flexible of rulers. Ainion is Silvan, yet he is under the orders of a Sindar elf. I do not know... Maybe he is judging himself guilty of something. I think it must be very difficult to be among the few survivors of such a lethal battle."

Elrohir nodded in agreement, without taking his eyes from the figure that walked on. Then he took a deep breath and kept the air inside his chest for some time, to finally exhale and drop his shoulders.

"Set camp," he shouted then in his unmistakable tone of leadership, and the group slowly came to a stop.

I'd like to thanks** Emma, shadow1314,** **Reader, a-mild-looking-sky, Lia Whyteleafe, DreamingIn2Eternity, Nocx, world-classgeek, IndiaBlue, Malleus Beneficarum, Emily, Laureiel, KaribookWorm, Teapot of transformation, SivanShemesh, Lizzen** and** HelloDenmark **for their reviews. Your comments were really important to me. I am glad you had time to read and leave a word.

And my special thanks to my wonderful and patient beta **Puxinette**; no money pays what I am learning with her.


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